


The Maiko

by juanagalan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Geisha, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama & Romance, Hurt/Comfort, John blushes a lot, M/M, Slow Build, bottom!John, dark!Sherlock, top!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:38:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 25,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juanagalan/pseuds/juanagalan
Summary: AU where Sherlock is tasked with transforming a simple servant into a talented geisha





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this AU is set between Edo Japan and WW2 (bit of a gap, I know). This fic is a WIP so I will be deciding later on exactly what time period this is set. 
> 
> I'm going to upload a few chapters now and then maybe release a new one once or twice a week, but we'll see how things develop...
> 
> I am reading into geisha customs in general as I write this. If you see anything amiss, please do let me know and I will amend my writing accordingly. I am very willing to learn more about this culture as I'd like to try to reflect it as accurately as possible ~~besides all the super gay Johnlock shit, but shhh!~~
> 
> Also I use a lot of Japanese terminology throughout largely ~~because I'm a nerd~~ for effect so here's a list of translated words to help:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = washi  
> Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  String instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_
> 
> Enjoy! :-)

_"Harry!"_

_He could see her in the murky distance. Her distorted form blurring into the surrounding thick fog. John could feel himself being pulled away by some unbeatable force; still he strained and yanked with all his might. It was futile; his sister grew all the more distant, fading into the darkness. John threw out a hand in desperation._

_"HARRY!"_

 

-

 

John let out an angry shout as his body shot upwards from his _tatami_ bed, beads of sweat rolling off his tense muscles. The fear from his nightmare lingered, but he managed to blink himself back to reality, gripping the bedsheets tight. Taking a couple of slow deep breaths, he reminded himself of his surroundings in an attempt to remain calm. He nearly jumped when he heard the sound of the bedroom door slide open, wincing at the flickering light that now flooded the room. John blinked again and let out a small sigh upon recognising the figure holding the lamp: it was Molly.

 

"If you keep this up then Mother will surely be rid of you", she whispered, squeezing her fragile frame through the _shōji_ door, silently shutting it behind her. She softly crept over and placed the lamp next to him. Kneeling beside his bed, she gave him a worried look. "Same as last time?"

 

"And the time before that", John croaked. He was grateful for Molly's sympathy, but uncomfortable with the attention. He'd learnt to keep his head down to stay out of trouble, preferring to avoid people than seek them out. He shifted awkwardly, glancing up at the door. "Do you reckon anyone else heard?"

 

Molly shook her head, "but at some point, they might." John frowned at the thought, concern marking his features; he worried what the consequences might be. So lost in his thoughts he was, he didn't register Molly holding out a leather pouch. He snapped himself out of his thoughts, gratefully accepting the offer and took a generous gulp of water.

 

Wiping his mouth, he nodded his thanks as he handed Molly back her pouch. “I need some air”, he gave her a weak smile, throwing the thin sheet off of his still sweating body. He stood up to stretch his now aching limbs. Molly winced upon hearing the crack that emanated from John’s spine. Rubbing the back of his neck, he made for the door. A gentle tug on the arm of his off-white _yukata_ robe caused him to glance over his shoulder at a very concerned looking Molly.

 

“We’re not supposed to leave the House at night, remember? What if you get caught snooping around? Think how awful it would be if someone found you. Or worse still, if Mother found you! You’d be beaten within an inch of your life!” She rambled on with a great sense of urgency to her whispers, her eyes darting about the room as if expecting someone to leap at them from the shadows. John rolled his eyes, but smiled. Despite his preference for solitude, he did appreciate Molly’s concern. He gently placed a hand over her clenched fist, attempting to placate her into letting go of his _yukata_.

 

“I won’t get caught”. Molly blinked rapidly, confusion flooding her face. She let out an exasperated sigh and resigned to letting John go. Before she turned to pick up her lamp to go back to her own room, she jabbed John in the arm.

 

“Just don’t forget what Mother said yesterday. We’re expecting an important visitor tomorrow so we all have to be on our best behaviour.” She poked John again. “Did you hear me, brother?”

 

He wished she didn’t call him that, but then again they were like family after all. He shifted out of Molly’s reach, rubbing his arm. “Yeah yeah visitor and all that. I got it.” And with that, he slid open the door, slipped out of his room and quickly disappeared down the narrow corridor, leaving behind a slightly frazzled-looking Molly.

 

-

 

John couldn’t pretend that the _kawara_ roof tiles felt comfortable, but it was worth it for the view. Perched at the very top of the House, he wrapped his arms around himself, not wanting to catch a cold. The edges of his worn _yukata_ fluttered in the wind, but John didn’t pay it any mind. He was lost in the dim sparkling lights of the city below, listening to the gentle hum of its people in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark enough for the moon to be out in full force. John glanced up to admire its beauty, revelling in how brightly it shone in the star-filled sky. He stared in wonder and slowly closed his eyes, taking comfort in the feeling of his problems being momentarily washed away. He forgot about the House, about Molly, Mother, this random visitor, his chores, his past, his sister Harr-

 

He snapped his eyes wide open, remembering his dream from a few hours before. He reached his hands upwards, fisting them into his short blonde hair. He’d been experiencing these nightmares ever since he was a boy, but he could never truly recall what had happened to him and his sister. It was just nightmare after nightmare of the same thing: forever wanting to save her, but always losing her in the end. John clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut. Gripping his hair tighter and letting out a small shudder, he silently sobbed on the roof of the House. If only he knew what had happened to Harry…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = washi  
> Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  String instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_

That morning was the busiest the House had ever been. Every one of Mother’s servants was running around manically, dusting and scrubbing and tidying. The entire House was under strict orders to have the place in top condition for the impending visit from their guest. John had been sweeping for the past four hours without so much as a minute to stop and breath. His hands ached, the wood of the broom creating blisters on his fingers. Stealing a quick glance around him, he briefly stopped so as to quickly flex his hands. Just as he did so, he felt something hard hit the back of his head. He let out a small yelp, spinning round to throw a glare at whoever had just assaulted him with a scrubbing brush. Molly was knelt on the floor a couple of metres away from him, next to a bucket of soapy water. She’d been scrubbing the floors for as long as he’d been sweeping, but stopped to scold him. With her hands on her hips, she pouted, “Mother will catch you standing around like that, if you’re not careful. You’ll be beaten senseless!”

 

John couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Rubbing the back of his head, he bent down to pick up the brush, crossing over to hand it back to Molly. He gave her another one of his small smiles, “I reckon I could take it.”

 

“Take what?”

 

Both John and Molly jumped and spun around. There stood in the doorway beside them was Mother’s assistant, Lestrade. He was wearing his finest emerald green _yukata_ with golden flower detailing. Quirking an eyebrow in disapproval, he crossed his arms over his chest. To say he was unimpressed was an understatement. John and Molly fidgeted awkwardly under his scrutinising gaze, “Alright, c’mon, out with it already. Which one of you was slacking?”

 

John and Molly caught each other’s eyes as they sneaked a quick glance at one another. Neither of them said a word for a short moment, causing Lestrade to sigh loudly in annoyance, “Well I guess you’re both to be punished then, eh?” He started to turn away when John stood forward.

 

“It was me, Sir. I stopped to take a nap. Molly here was just trying to wake me up, is all. I apologise for my insolence.” And with that, John threw a quick sharp bow to Lestrade. He squinted at the two of them before letting out another sigh.

 

“Ok you know the drill, Watson. Out in the yard right now, robe off.”, he threw a thumb over his shoulder and John scurried away. Lestrade snapped round to Molly before seeing to John. “And you,” he pointed, “next time you catch a servant nodding off, you come find me. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” Molly bowed, throwing her hands in front of her and pressing her forehead to the floor. Lestrade shot a _tsk_ at her before heading outside. Molly looked up having heard him leave, wincing after John.

 

-

 

“Let’s make this quick. Our guest will be arriving soon.” Lestrade near murmured to himself as he picked up the bamboo stick. John was on his hands and knees in the middle of the courtyard, his back exposed to the light morning breeze. He couldn’t help his body from tensing in anticipation, sweat dripping from his brow. Some of the servants tending to the surrounding shrubbery had stopped to watch helplessly, others peaking from inside the House to see. Molly was amongst them, clutching onto her scrubbing brush. Everyone looked on in silent anticipation.

 

The air was tense. Lestrade loomed over John, readying the bamboo in his hands. “You ready, Watson?” Without turning to look at him, John gave Lestrade a quick sharp nod, screwing his eyes shut. Lestrade slowly lifted the stick above his head then brought it shooting downwards to strike across John’s exposed back. John cried out, but held his stance, fisting his sore hands into the stone underneath. Lestrade repeated the action again and again, every onlooker wincing in fear. Three more strikes later and Lestrade was done. John was on his elbows at this point, large tender welts blossoming across his back. John shook in pain as Lestrade panted from the exertion. Mother always insisted that disciplining the servants was of upmost importance and must be severe in its nature. Lestrade dropped the stick, causing it to create a loud clang as it hit the cobbled floor. Every servant who had been watching jumped at the sound and spun back round to busy themselves with their chores. Lestrade straightened out his _yukata_ and headed back inside.

 

John held himself for another moment longer before allowing himself to collapse. The cool stone floor against his skin made for a useful distraction from the awful stinging the bamboo had caused. He gasped the air back into his lungs before forcing himself to breathe more calmly through his nose. Shakily pushing himself off of the ground, he grunted as he stood, taking a couple of steps towards the stick he was mercilessly struck with moments before. Bending down to pick it up, he hissed as his back ached at the movement. Grabbing the stick off the harsh cold floor, he hobbled away to the wash rooms to clean the blood off the bamboo.

 

-

 

Anthea stood in the entrance of the House, keeping a watchful eye in anticipation of their guest. She flicked her _sensu_ fan nervously, a small frown marking her brow. Mother had insisted she look out for their guest, but neglected to inform her exactly who or what to look out for. Suddenly her ears picked up the somewhat foreign sound of hooves against cobble. She turned her head to be met with the image of a dark haired man in an old navy _yukata_ a top of a ragged black horse. People in the street stopped to point and stare as the man rode on towards the House. Anthea raised an eyebrow; it’s not every day one sees a strange scruffy looking man riding a horse through the middle of the city. Nevertheless, she stepped out of the doorway to bow their guest welcome. As the man’s horse came to a still outside the entrance, two servants darted out to take hold of the reigns. One of those servants was Molly. She politely took a hold of the man’s horse as he hopped off his saddle. Molly couldn’t stop herself from gawping at him and nearly leapt in surprise when he spoke:

 

“Inform Mother of my arrival.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = washi  
> Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  String instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_

“Everyone, outside, now!” Lestrade was running around the House, ushering everyone outside into the front yard. They all quickly aligned themselves into two lines on either side of the path, ready for inspection. Just as the last servant ran out of the House and joined the end of a line, eliciting a quick smack round the back of the head from Lestrade, the _shōji_ entrance to the yard slid open. Everyone present fell deadly silent as Anthea stepped forwards, their guest following closely behind. All eyes fell on the mysterious figure as she moved aside for him to enter. Several servants blinked incredulously, some raising their eyebrows in surprise, others frowning in confusion. Their guest had the look of a vagabond; his _yukata_ was worn round the edges and littered with various stains. His _geta_ sandals were caked in mud and his hands were wrapped in old bandages. Even Lestrade quirked an eyebrow at their unkempt visitor. There was a tense silence as everyone stood frozen on the spot. All that could be heard was the distant chirping of songbirds.

 

Removing his _kasa_ hat, the guest turned to Anthea and nodded towards the two rows of servants, “Is this really necessary?”

 

Anthea clenched her jaw, unsure of how to respond. The man looked haggard: he was sporting a messy stubble and his greasy dark curls had been pulled back into a bun. She then realised their visitor had been holding out his hat to which she shot a glare at the servants behind him, angrily snapping her fingers. Molly took it upon herself to be the one to step forwards, attempting to carefully balance their guest’s sack of belongings under one arm as she reached out to take their visitor’s hat. Molly made sure to bow simultaneously and avert her eyes.

 

As she took the hat from his hands, the guest turned to look at her. “Thank you.” Molly couldn’t stop herself from snapping her face upwards in shock; she wasn’t accustomed to being addressed directly unless it was to be ordered or punished. They both locked eyes for a brief moment before the _shōji_ at the opposite end of the yard suddenly slid open with a bang, causing almost everyone to jump. The only exception was the visitor, whose eyes were still fixed on Molly. However she had since focused her gaze on the floor again and began to retreat backwards as Mother came tearing down the path.

 

“My my, we weren’t expecting you to arrive so soo-“, the smile quickly dropped. “Goodness gracious, look at the state of you!”

 

The visitor flicked his gaze from where Molly was previously stood and onto Mother, who was stood gawping in the middle of the path. Annoyance spread across the visitor’s features, “Really now, I fail to see how my attire should be of any interest to you, Mother. Or should I say, brother.” The servants all stared in shock, some whispering in disbelief. Could these two men really be related by blood? They were polar opposites in terms of their appearance. The two men locked eyes with one another with such ferocity; everyone else couldn’t help themselves from nervously darting their eyes at each other.

 

“Alright alright, settle down now”, came Lestrade, jabbing at the gossiping servants. Molly stole a quick glimpse at the others in the yard and noticed something was missing. She leaned her head to the side so as to subtlety gain the attention of the other servant next to her.

 

“Where’s John?”, but the servant shook their head quickly, dropping their eyes back to the ground. Molly let out a quiet, but frustrated sigh. _He must still be tending to his wounds_ , she thought. She prayed no one would notice he was missing, feeling grateful for the way in which Mother seemed aghast and therefore distracted by their guest.

 

The look of shock suddenly vanished from Mother’s face, replaced with a cool calm expression of confidence. “Really now, brother of mine, what would the local towns people say?” He lifted up his _wagasa_ parasol, opening it with a twirl and placed it over his shoulder. Quirking an eyebrow at his brother, he continued, “You know I have a reputation to maintain.”

 

The guest scoffed, breaking eye contact to observe the courtyard. “A reputation, eh? As the Mistress of a whore house? Surely you can do better, Mycroft.” Everyone was shocked by the visitor once more. Not even Lestrade or Anthea would dare speak to Mother like that.

 

Mother shot the guest a dangerous look, “This isn’t just a whore house, Sherlock. It’s more than that and you know it.” And with that he turned, “Come now, let’s get you freshened up and presentable for a change. I fear you might stink out the entire city!” Mother Mycroft began to saunter back the way he came, with his brother Sherlock following behind. Anthea was quick to follow, with Molly and the other servant behind her, struggling to carry Sherlock’s many belongings. Molly took the opportunity to steal a look at all the servants’ faces, scanning for John’s own, but he was nowhere to be seen. When they all reached the door at the opposite end of the entrance to the courtyard, Mycroft caught Anthea’s eyes and gave her a small nod. She turned and ushered Molly and the second servant away, opened the _shōji_ for the two brothers and quickly shut it once they had stepped inside. A few moments of intense silence passed before Lestrade stepped forward.

 

“Ok everyone, now that _whatever that was_ is over with, you can all get to back to work!” He barked. “You,” he pointed at a small group of servants, “You lot go prepare a room for them and you”, he pointed again, “Help those two carry our guest’s things to his room.” He indicated behind him to Molly and the servant accompanying her, both now really struggling to balance all of Sherlock’s various bags. Lestrade was about to turn away when he stopped to squint at everyone. “Hold up a minute…where’s Watson?”

 

Molly winced.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = washi  
> Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  String instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_

John placed the bamboo stick against the wall. He’d just finished scrubbing his own blood off it, having attempted to clean blood off himself too. He had struggled to reach to the welts on his spine, awkwardly trying to bend his arm back in an effort to dab at them with a damp cloth. He sighed from exhaustion and allowed himself to sink to the floor, wanting to catch a brief moment to himself before heading back to continue with his chores. The washroom was warm, with steam dancing about the ceiling. John briefly let his eyes drift shut to revel in the newly found solitude before snapping them open and leaping to his feet. Lestrade had practically throw the _shōji_ open and with a loud slam.

 

“There you are! Slacking off again are we?” John tried to splutter an apology, but Lestrade waved it off. “Never mind that, I don’t have time for this now. Our guest has arrived and considering you’re already here, you can nip next door and run a bath for him. I’ll have to deal with you later.” And with that, he was gone.

 

John let out a sigh of relief before grabbing what he needed to prepare the bath.

 

-

 

John was in the middle of pouring yet another scoop of hot water into the wooden tub when the _shōji_ behind him quietly slid open. He turned to bow in greeting, but froze when he was met with the sight of the rough looking man currently stood in the doorway. They both held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before John spluttered, “C-can I help you, Sir?”

 

Sherlock blinked. “Why yes, I believe that bath is for me.” He pointed at the tub of hot water, John following his line of sight. When he turned his head back round, the man had stepped into the room and began to slide the _shōji_ shut.

 

John blinked rapidly. “With all due respect, Sir, I think you might be lost.” Clutching onto the wooden ladle in his hands, he bravely took a step forwards. To anyone else, it would’ve looked as if he was preparing to defend the bath from the apparent intruder.

 

Sherlock let out a low chuckle, ignoring John’s defensive stance. He crossed to the side of the room to stop in front of a large straw basket, undoing his _obi_ belt as he did so. “Are all of Mother’s servants as disrespectful as you are? Maybe your punishments ought to be more severe.” He began to remove his _yukata_ as he spoke.

 

Realisation suddenly dawned on John: _this must be that guest everyone was banging on about!_ John felt a twist in his gut as embarrassment flooded his entire being. Dropping the ladle, his threw himself to the floor. Falling to his knees with his hands outstretched and his forehead touching the ground, he was about to beg for forgiveness when he heard a _tsk_ emanate from the other man in the room.

 

“Oh for goodness sake, I have no patience for such insincere gestures.” John lifted his head to throw a confused look at the man stood opposite him, a hard blush crossing his cheeks as he realised Sherlock was near naked. He was about to look away when the dark haired man spoke again, “Do get up”. John slowly rose to his feet, awkwardly shuffling on the spot, unsure of where to look. He couldn’t help but catch Sherlock’s eyes when the strange man continued to speak, “What’s your name then?”

 

“W-Watson. John Watson, Sir”, he stammered, his blush growing as Sherlock continued to undress himself.

 

“Well, my dear Watson, your back must be quite tender by now, no?”

 

John flinched then relaxed somewhat, “I see you’ve been introduced to Lestrade then, Sir.”

 

“Who?”

 

John frowned. He opened his mouth to clarify, but was interrupted by Sherlock, “Fetch me a razor, will you? I fear this stubble will only serve to give my brother all the more reason to nag me.” John quickly shut his mouth, swallowing his confusion and noting the other man’s request. He gave him a quick sharp nod and turned to leave the room. “Oh and John?”

 

John spun back round, a foreign feeling he couldn’t describe shot through him. He wasn’t accustomed to being referred to by his first name. “Yes, Sir?”

 

“The name’s Sherlock Holmes. I would prefer you use that in lieu of the honorifics.”

 

“Yes, Si-,” Sherlock shot him a glare. “Ah, I mean, yes, Mr Holmes.” The words felt odd in John’s mouth. He squirmed under the other man’s gaze.

 

“Sherlock will do nicely”, he turned away to head for the bath. “The razor, if you will.”

 

John blinked, remembering what had been asked of him. “Y-yes, Sherlock.” He quickly spun round and made for his escape.

 

-

 

Molly trotted softly down the narrow hallway in the direction of the wash rooms, her _tabi_ socks causing her footsteps to appear near silent. She was carrying with her a fresh set of _yukata_ in a dark shade of purple. The material was soft to the touch with silver dragons patterned all over. She admired the clothing longingly, wishing she too was important enough to own such an outfit, let alone be able to afford and wear it. It was then that she abruptly bumped into John.

 

“Oof!”, they both went, nearly crumpling the delicate garments folded neatly in Molly’s hands. She threw John an angry glare and was about to hurl a string of obscenities when she realised who was standing in front of her.

 

“Brother! Where on earth have you been? For a minute, I thought you’d finally packed up and left us all behind.” Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke. John hastened to shush her, nodding his head to the room he had just left. Molly’s eyes widened as she slammed her lips firmly shut. Without a word, John pointed at the room next door, to which Molly nodded in response as they both crept over to quietly slide in, out of sight. As soon as he had closed the _shōji_ as delicately as he could, she began talking at him again. “Did you see the state of him? What a mess! I can’t believe we’re harbouring vagabond. Surely he can’t be related to Mother? Not by blood, at least. Who do you think he is? He’s rather terrifying, isn’t he? I wonde-“. She was cut off from her ramble by the sound of the _shōji_ sliding open. Both John and Molly stared in horror, the colour completely drained from their faces. Sherlock was stood dripping wet in the doorway, completely naked.

 

“In answer to your questions, yes I believe John did see the state of me. I suppose by everyone else’s standards here, yes I am a bit of a mess. No, I am not a vagabond. Yes, I am related to _Mother_ ,” he spat out the word, to Molly’s astonishment. Sherlock’s tirade continued to roll off his tongue, “Related by blood, that is. If you must know, I am his brother and I can very easily be terrifying, if needs be. Any more questions?” John and Molly continued to look in shock, barely registering what had been said.

 

Sherlock turned his attention to John, “So, that razor then?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as mentioned in the notes of chapter one, I'll be aiming to post a new chapter once or twice a week :-) I've just started working on chapter twelve so there's plenty more to come!
> 
> I've added more tags to include other characters alongside another pairing with John Watson ~~because I enjoy whoring him out to everyone~~
> 
> Also here's some updated translation notes for you:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = washi  
> Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_

John nearly leapt from the sudden attention, as a dark shade of crimson bloomed across his cheeks. He forcibly removed himself from where he was kneeling, his face a little too close to Sherlock’s crotch. He stumbled slightly as he stood. “Y-yes, Sherlock. I’ll go get that for you now.” He turned, shooting past Molly without giving her so much as a glance and approached a pile of ornate wooden boxes at the opposite end of the room. Throwing one of the many lids open, he shakily fumbled through to find their guest a razor. He had to will himself from jumping again when he heard the other man speak.

 

“You’re the girl from earlier.” It was clear he was talking to Molly, despite the fact that his eyes were burning a hole in the back of John’s head. Molly nodded anyway, her face pale as she began tremble all over. Sherlock finally turned to look at her, struggling to break his gaze from the man at the other end of the room. “And I suppose those are for me?” He gestured at the _yukata_ in her arms. Molly gave him several more nods, seemingly unable to move any other part of her body. She grew all the more tense when the dark haired man took a step towards her. John swivelled round upon hearing her take a short sharp breath, noting the lack of space between her and Sherlock. He frowned, attempting to second guess the other man’s intentions. After all, it was just the three of them alone in the wash rooms, and Sherlock was naked and looming over Molly. John grit his teeth and clenched at the newly found razor in his palm, unknowingly causing his hand to bleed. He was about to intervene when the taller man spoke, “May I have them then?”

 

Molly blinked rapidly, faltering for a brief moment. She then shakily handed the garments to the now irritated-looking man. As soon as she had fully extended her arms forwards, Sherlock snapped the clothes from her, crumpling them in a pile against his chest. He then spun around without a word to head back to his bath.

 

On hearing the sound of the _shōji_ next door slide shut, John let out a loud sigh. Realising that his already calloused hand had been accidentally cut open with the razor, he cursed under his breath. Grabbing a nearby roll of bandages, he wrapped them around his bleeding palm. Tossing the blood stained razor aside, he quickly found another and made for the corridor. He was just about to leave when he noticed Molly was half slumped against the wall, as if struggling to hold herself upright. Worry shot through John as he crossed over to her, “Molly, are you alright?” He placed a reassuring hand on her arm, causing her to instinctively flinch away. John frowned.

 

“J-just go”, she stammered, placing a hand over her face. Humiliation flooded her very being and it showed, clear as day. She was very easily intimidated, unlike John. He gave her another concerned look before glancing down at the clean razor in his hand. He desperately wanted to comfort his friend, but was wary of the consequences of prioritising other servants over their superiors. Still, he faltered.

 

“I should…”, but his words trailed off when he saw tears trickle down Molly’s cheeks. He was about to pull her forwards into a reassuring embrace when she turned to run out the room. John tried to follow suit. However upon reaching the corridor, he barely caught a glimpse of her disappear as she shot round the corner and out of sight. Her soft sobs were barely audible as they faded into the distance. He stood dumbfounded for a moment before recalling his duties. Pushing his concerns aside, he slid the _shōji_ to the room shut before heading back to the one next door.

 

John couldn’t stop himself from shooting a threatening look at Sherlock when he entered the room, but realised the other man had placed a damp white flannel over his eyes. He had helped himself back into the bath, his arms draped over either side of the wooden structure with his body slumped back in relaxation. For a moment, John felt almost invisible so he nearly jumped when the dark haired man addressed him without moving, “By the mirror, please.”

 

The smaller man blinked before realising that Sherlock was referring to the razor. Keeping a careful eye on the ominous man in the tub, John padded softly across the room to place the razor by the mirror before sharply turning to head out the way he came. Sherlock however had been listening to his footsteps, lifting a corner of the flannel to peer at the blonde as he made for the door. He calmly placed it back on his face as he spoke, “I don’t recall mentioning that you were dismissed.”

 

John froze, his back still facing the other man. He tried not to clench his fists in annoyance as he turned round to face him. _Why is this weird git paying so much attention to me?_ John tried to keep his tone as neutral as he could. “Was there something else you need?”

 

“No”, came his response.

 

John couldn’t help the frustration from tinging his voice this time, “Then with all due respect, Sherlock, I should like to request that I am dismissed.”

 

The other man shifted into a more comfortable position before responding, “Mmm no”.

 

A dangerous look descended upon the shorter man’s face. He felt compelled to throttle the other man, but settled for clenching his bandaged hand a little too hard, the pain distracting him from his rage. However his anger was soon replaced with fear upon hearing Sherlock’s next words.

 

“So tell me,” he languidly removed the flannel from his eyes to flippantly drop it on the floor. He then calmly focused his gaze on John, “What’s all this _packing up and leaving us all behind_ business about, hm?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_

John tried his very best to not react to Sherlock’s words, apart from momentarily poking out his tongue to wet his dry lips. He kept his eyes steady with those of the other man, despite feeling like he’d been unwillingly thrown into the spotlight. He wanted to shift his body away from the dark haired man’s probing gaze, but chose to stand his ground instead. _If it’s a game this arrogant prick wants, then a game he’ll get_ , John triumphantly thought. Puffing out his chest and straightening his posture, he responded as coolly as possible, “I don’t know what you mean”.

 

Sherlock couldn’t prevent the chortle that escaped from his lips, his eyes crinkling in amusement as he broke their staring match to run a hot wet hand through his damp curls. The smaller of the two however remained perfectly still, his own eyes unmoving. Of course he knew that Sherlock was aware of his attempt to play dumb, but he refused to give the other man’s curiosity the satisfaction. Before John could begin to enjoy his brief moment of victory, Sherlock retorted:

 

“It was clear to your female counterpart just now that she’s aware of how much you loathe this place, more it’s people above all else. You struggle being made to be around so many of them all the time because you’re used to being alone, more likely abandoned. Despite your general dislike and probable distrust of others, you fear being left with no one around you. Why? Because you weren’t always alone, not until that fateful day where something precious was taken from you. No…”, he stopped to take a breath, his eyes widening in excitement, “No, it was someone, wasn’t it? Oh it’s always more interesting when it’s someone!” He continued his ramble, “But who was that someone. A lover perhaps? Or maybe a family member, possibly a brother. You two were close, inseparable even, apart from when you were forcibly separated, of course.” Sherlock placed the palms of his hands together to delicately rest his chin on top of his fingers. “And now you’re here. You were sold to this House when you were young, barely in your teens. You’ve had years to plan an escape and been given every opportunity to do so, and yet there you stand. Why stay? Because you think you have more chances of finding your brother in the heart of the city in lieu of randomly searching for him on your own, wherever he may be.” Then he squinted, “There’s anger there too. You want revenge, don’t you? Find your brother, find the person who took him, punish the culprit.” Sherlock relaxed into the warm water, “And that’s why you haven’t left yet.”

 

John’s eyes felt like they had grown wider and wider with every one of Sherlock’s words. He didn’t think to stop himself from commenting. “That was…”, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, “…amazing!”

 

The taller man realigned his eyes with John’s now smiling face. The blonde shook his head at the floor in disbelief, chuckling to himself, more in surprise than amusement. Sherlock frowned as he asked, “Did I get it all right?”

 

“Sister”, he replied hoarsely. He cleared his throat as his lifted his head to meet the other man’s gaze. “Not brother”, he clarified. Sherlock reacted to his words with a pained expression.

 

“Sister!”, he exclaimed, raising a clenched fist to his mouth in frustration. John however was blown away. He had never breathed so much as a word about himself to anyone, not even Molly. He was about to enquire as to how the dark haired man knew so much about him when the _shōji_ to the room was thrown open. He swallowed the surprised yelp that was threatening to escape his lips as he spun around. It was Mother.

 

“Oh do come along, brother. We have much catching up to do and you are rather taking your tim-“, Mycroft stopped when he caught sight of John staring at him. He was about to scold the servant for it when Sherlock intervened.

 

“John is quite the character, don’t you think?”

 

It was the second time that morning that Mycroft gawped at his brother. The blonde had now lost count of the amount of times he had done exactly the same. Suddenly, a jolt of panic shot through him: was Sherlock about reveal John for who he really was? He gulped, twitching his nose in anticipation.

 

“Character…?” An almost sadistic smile spread across Mycroft’s features. It was enough to send a chill down the smaller man’s spine, but Sherlock was undeterred.

 

“Yes, he’s been rather good. I was expecting less of you, brother, but it would appear I am mistaken. Your servants are rather impressive indeed.” He flashed a smile at John, eliciting an awkward squirm from him in response.

 

Mycroft rose an eyebrow, “I see…”.  He snapped out of his stiff stance, his face lacking its previous intensity. “Well hurry up and make yourself presentable, please. I should like for you to spare my eyes the pain of having to look at such a mess of a man.” The man in the tub merely scoffed. “And that god awful stubble…”

 

“Yes yes!” Sherlock flung his arms upwards in annoyance, causing some of the contents of the bath to spill over onto the floor. He stood up, climbed out and headed for the mirror. John lamented for the man’s apparent lack of decency, averting his eyes to stare at the ceiling. A blush spread across his face as he twiddled his thumbs behind his back, determined to distract himself. Unbeknown to him, Mycroft had been observing his behaviour the entire time.

 

“Curious…”, he murmured to himself.

 

“Hm?” Both John and Sherlock turned to chime simultaneously.

 

Mycroft chuckled, “Brother, there are matters to discuss of the upmost importance so please don’t keep me waiting any longer.” His brother hummed his acknowledgement as he began to carefully remove his facial hair. Satisfied with his response, Mycroft placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder, causing the servant to snap his head round in surprise. “And you”, he cooed, “Come with me”.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_

John shifted awkwardly on his knees, his palms placed flat over the tops of his thighs with his head slightly bowed. He glanced from Mycroft to Anthea and back again, expecting something to finally happen, but no one had said a word since they entered the room. All that could be heard was the scratchy scribblings of Anthea rapidly writing away in her notebook alongside the gentle wafts of air emanating from Mycroft's _sensu_ fan. John eventually fixed his gaze on the stewing pot of tea that sat in the middle of the three of them, silently brewing away. He considered offering them a drink when the _shōji_ behind him slid open.

 

"Ah there you are, brother of mine. I was beginning to think you'd slipped and slit your throat." Mycroft threw Sherlock one of his typical insincere smiles as his brother softly made his way over to sit opposite. John couldn't help himself from stealing a quick look at him, just about managing to prevent himself from gawking. Sherlock looked drastically different to before: his face was clean and fresh looking from his shave, his angular features now much easier to see and thus admire. He was wearing the purple _yukata_ Molly had brought him earlier, which served to bring out the light blue colour of his piercing eyes. The only dishevelled characteristic that remained was his loose dark curls. He looked almost regal. _Like his brother_ , John thought distantly. He was suddenly snapped out of his trance upon hearing Anthea click her fingers at him. Without looking up from her book, she pointed downwards at the tea. A blush bloomed across his cheeks as he reached out to pour two cups. Neither one of the brothers broke eye contact with the other, ignoring the freshly poured tea in favour of sitting for a moment longer in complete silence. John wanted to squirm from the awkward intensity. Even Anthea had stopped writing. Mycroft finally spoke again.

 

"Well?" Was all he said.

 

"Well what?" Sherlock snapped back.

 

Mycroft let out a mildly exasperated sigh, "Well how are you, is usually good place to start, is it not? Brother, I have not seen you in years, let alone heard from you. Did you not receive my letters?"

 

"Oh I did", He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.

 

"And?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow at him expectedly as he spoke.

 

"I'm here, aren't I?"

 

A look of minor annoyance appeared on Mycroft's face. He glanced at Anthea to which she nodded. She lifted herself from her knees to retreat backwards to the _shōji_ opposite to the one Sherlock had entered from. Kneeling back down again, she slid the door open. On the opposite side were three figures. John only recognised Lestrade who casually strolled in, the other two accompanying him following swiftly behind. His relaxed demeanour erased the previous intensity of the room as he spoke.

 

He nodded towards Sherlock, but his eyes were on Mycroft, "This really the same guy from earlier?" Mycroft nodded and Lestrade let out a scoff, eventually turning to face the other man. He was about to introduce himself when he was abruptly cut off.

 

"Save it, I already know who you are." Lestrade spluttered as Sherlock continued, "Let's see them then."

 

The silver haired man shot an incredulous look at Mycroft only to be met with a pair of raised eyebrows. Lestrade let out a frustrated sigh, standing aside to let the two behind him step forwards. "Donovan and Anderson."

 

The two in question were dressed head to toe in immaculate formal _geisha_ -wear. John looked at them both in awe. _So this is what Mother has been working on this whole time_ , he concluded to himself. It explained why Mycroft was rarely anywhere to be seen in the House - he had been deeply preoccupied with their training.

 

The pair stood in silence as Sherlock looked them both up and down. With the exception of the two _geisha_ , everyone's eyes were fixed on Sherlock, awaiting his approval. After less than a minutes silence, he turned away to take another sip of tea.

 

"Problem?" Probed Mycroft.

 

"Yes", his brother replied, "Two, to be precise." He casually threw a thumb towards the _geisha_ , eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Lestrade. He continued, "Neither of them will do. Really, brother, I had expected more from you." It was Mycroft's turn to take in a breath, clenching his teeth in frustration. Before anyone had time to comment, Sherlock turned his attention to the only servant in the room, "John, be a dear and pour me another cup?"

 

John almost flinched from the sudden attention; this whole time feeling like more of a fly on the wall. He managed a nod as he picked up the pot of tea and began to pour. As he did so, Lestrade let out an angry shout, “Bloody bastard!”

 

Sherlock ignored the cuss in favour of calmly taking another sip of tea. John blinked; most people leapt when Lestrade bellowed, let alone swore. _Then again, this bloke’s not really like most people_ , he pondered. Just as the thought had entered his mind, Sherlock turned to focus his gaze on him, almost as if he’d heard John thinking. Again, the blonde felt uncomfortable with the sudden attention, conjuring everything he could not to wriggle under the other man’s intense stare. A small smile formed on Sherlock’s lips, “Did you brew this yourself?”

 

The question sounded so soft and out of place that it left John momentarily perplexed. “P-pardon?” And then everyone’s eyes were on him.

 

“Manners, dear boy!” Mycroft hissed. Sherlock held a hand up at his brother to shush him, his eyes still fixed on the almost quivering servant.

 

“I said,” Sherlock began, his tone as gentle as before, “Did you brew this yourself?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_

“You can’t be serious?!” Lestrade bellowed again, throwing his arms outwards in a vain attempt to vent his anger. Having dropped her notebook and pencil in shock, all colour had been completely drained from Anthea’s face. The two _geisha_ remained perfectly still despite the indignant look on both their faces. Mycroft let out a loud sigh. The entire room had exploded in a vast array of emotion upon hearing Sherlock’s decision.

 

“He can’t be serious!”, Lestrade continued, firmly placing his hands on his hips. He spun round to Mycroft, “Mother, you can’t allow this.” He waited for a response, but Mycroft’s eyes were closed in contemplation. “You simply can’t.” He waited again for a reply, but none came. “It’s ludicrous!”

 

“Hush now.” Mycroft snapped, to which Lestrade threw his hands up in frustration. The dark haired man breathed calmly through his nose and slowly opened his eyes, “Are you sure about this, brother of mine?” He kept his tone steady and calm.

 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” Sherlock announced, his gaze still fixed on John. “Besides,” he took a brief moment to glance at his brother from the corner of his eyes, “When have I ever been wrong?”

 

-

 

“He said what?!” Molly squeaked, tightly clutching the small straw basket to her chest. She’d managed to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed when she saw John beckoning her from a tear in the _washi_ of the wall.

 

“Shh!” John held a finger up to his mouth. The last thing he wanted was for them to be caught. She’d be beaten without hesitation for abandoning her chores.

 

Molly hunched her shoulders, cautioning a quick look around them before leaning towards him to whisper. “What’re you going to do?”

 

John hadn’t thought about that, especially given every part of him currently felt numb. He stammered his response, “I-I don’t know really.”

 

Molly frowned, “Well you better think of something. This sort of _thing_ ,” She gestured with a hand for emphasis, “It just doesn’t happen!”

 

John fumbled with his sleeve, trying to get his brain to focus. He’d been rendered completely shell-shocked.

 

“I mean,” Molly went on, “What do you even know about being a _geisha_?”

 

-

 

“Tea?!” Lestrade was still furious. His _geisha_ protégés had since been dismissed and Lestrade used the newly freed space to pace up and down the room. “You mean to say you chose a servant over my _geisha_ because of a fucking cup of tea?!”

 

“You can tell a lot about someone from a cup of tea.” Sherlock replied coolly. He twirled his almost empty cup in his hand, watching as the last dregs swirled around and around.  

 

The silver haired man stammered a string of incoherent words before stopping to take a breath. Folding his arms over his chest, he concluded: “I won’t allow it.”

 

“Need I remind you who is in charge here?” Mycroft interjected.

 

“But this is impossible! There’s nowhere near enough time for the training, let alone discipline. It just can’t be done!”

 

Mycroft turned his attention to his brother. “Can you do it?”

 

Sherlock stood as he spoke, “Of course.”

 

“Have I gone completely mad?!” Lestrade roared.

 

“Then you have my blessings.” Mycroft conceded, ignoring Lestrade’s protests.

 

Sherlock bowed to his brother. “Ok fine whatever have it your way,” Lestrade continued, “but on your heads be it.”

 

Sherlock grinned at his brother, “We wouldn’t have it any other way.” Flicking his eyes over to the frustrated silver haired man, he gave him a cheeky wink before turning to disappear out of the room.

 

-

 

John wandered about the House aimlessly, the events of that morning playing over and over in his head. Upon hearing Sherlock’s suggestion that he become an apprentice _geisha_ , Anthea had abruptly ushered him out of the room, instructing him to go get some rest. As soon as she had slid the _shōji_ close, all John could hear was Lestrade’s angry shouting. John decided that making himself scarce sounded like a good idea at this point so he did just that. Having confided in Molly, her words span around endlessly in his mind. _What am I going to do?_ He pondered. She was right in pointing out how little he knew of _geisha._ Sure, he may work in an _okiya_ , but his interactions with _geisha_ were limited at best.

 

John felt lost without any chores to do and horribly misplaced just mooching about the House. He decided to go gather his thoughts in his favourite spot.

 

-

 

Shifting slightly on the _kawara_ tiles, John stared into the distance. Despite the brightness of the sun and the deep blue of the cloudless sky, the gentle breeze still managed to send a chill right through him, the hairs on his exposed arms standing on their ends. He grit his teeth, attempting to force his mind to realign his muddled thoughts. His head snapped round upon hearing the clack of the tiles. At the other end of the roof stood Sherlock, his purple _yukata_ flapping in the breeze.

 

John blinked, “H-how…?”

 

“You’re more predictable than you think, John. Of course you’d be on the roof.”

 

John gulped. The two remained still as they stared at each other. A minute passed before the dark haired man spoke again.

 

“May I?” He indicated to where John was sitting. Despite his confusion, the smaller of the two nodded, breaking his gaze to focus on the horizon again. Sherlock cautiously made his way over to the blonde haired man, careful to balance himself so as not to fall off the roof. He sat himself beside him, staring with burning intensity. A bead of sweat escaped from John’s brow: he disliked the unwanted examination. He could almost feel Sherlock’s breath when he spoke. “You have questions.”

 

A nervous chuckle escaped from John’s lips. “Yes, I suppose so.”

 

The dark haired man opened his mouth with the intention of revealing all, keen to impress the other man with a cascade of fast paced words to form his brilliant explanation. But John wasn’t interested in the why, he was interested in the:

 

“How?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

“Sorry?” Sherlock began to think that maybe this man wasn’t as predictable as he originally thought.

 

“How did you know all that? About me, my past, my…”, John broke off, unable to finish his sentence.

 

The taller man followed the blonde’s line of sight, gazing over the rooftops of the city. “I see, John.” The smaller of the two turned to give him a look. He continued, “Rather I observe. I know things about people they don’t know about themselves or will possibly ever know.” His voice was distant, almost reflective. He turned to meet John’s eyes. For a moment, they held each other's gaze.

 

That was until John suddenly shook his head, “No…”

 

The dark haired man was about to explain his methods of deduction at greater length when John spoke again. “I won’t do it.”

 

Sherlock paused before finally responding, “Even if I knew where to find your sister?”

 

The blonde's eyes widened at the serious expression that had descended upon Sherlock's face. 

 

Then suddenly John was on him, nearly toppling them both off the roof. The force of the sudden movement knocked one of the many  _kawara_  loose, causing it to slide and fall. It landed with a loud crash on the street below, just as John had fisted Sherlock's  _yukata_  in his hands. "How do you know all this?!" He shouted, tears of anger and desperation peaking in the corners of his eyes. 

 

Despite the blonde's aggression, the other man's face remained perfectly still. He responded calmly, "John, I travel the country training  _geisha_  everywhere I go. Does it really come as such a surprise that I might have an insight as to the whereabouts of your sister?"

 

He realised he had a point. Scrambling off of the other man, he looked away to bury his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, I just thought-"

 

"You thought it was suspicious that I know so much." Sherlock finished for him. "You're looking for someone to blame for your sister's disappearance and it would be convenient if the person responsible were me."

 

John sighed. A look a determination appeared in his eyes as he turned to lock eyes with the dark haired man. "So if become a  _geisha_ , you'll help me find my sister?"

 

"Precisely."

 

"And you chose me over the others because you knew you'd have my loyalty."

 

Sherlock hesitated before responding. "Yes", he finally confirmed.

 

The smaller man broke their gaze to focus on the horizon again. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he did so. Slowly he opened them again as he exhaled. Sherlock was watching his every move.

 

"Alright, I'll do it. For Harry."

 

The other man flashed him a toothy grin. “Splendid!” Then he leapt up with a jovial bounce in his step, “Lunch?”

 

“What?”

 

“Not hungry then?”

 

“Ah no, I’m starving…”

 

The dark haired man happily extended a hand, which the blonde gingerly accepted.

 

-

 

John shuffled awkwardly down the cobbled street, trying his best to ignore all the staring and whispering from passersby. He wished the other man would slow down. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he conceded defeat. “Sher-Sherlock?”

 

“Hm?” The man in question turned his head to glance at John from over his shoulder.

 

The blonde eventually caught up with him, wobbling as he made his way over to the other man’s side. “Sherlock, I can barely walk in these.” He gestured to his _okobo_ shoes. 

 

“It’s a necessity, John. You’ll get used to it.” He was about to continue his stroll when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his _yukata_.

 

“Wait! Could I um ah…”, John blushed, “Could I…hold onto you? Please? Just until I find my balance…”

 

A brief moment of fondness sparkled in Sherlock’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. Regardless, he wordlessly offered his arm to the shorter man.

 

“Thank you…”, mumbled John.

 

They walked arm-in-arm for a while, in total silence; the only audible sounds being the constant hum of the city buzzing around them and the click clack of their shoes against stone.

 

Then Sherlock cleared his throat. “The colour, it suits you.”

 

John threw him a puzzled look before realising he was referring to his light pink _kimono_. He’d never worn one before, let alone worn something that wasn’t plain in its appearance. He was unsure of how to respond to the comment. Thankfully the thought was forced out of his mind when the other man came to an abrupt halt. John had to tighten his grip on Sherlock’s arm to prevent himself from falling forwards.

 

“This’ll do!” He threw the blonde another one of his grins. They were starting to make John squirm.

 

-

 

“Thank you!” The blonde beamed as the waiter placed the  _dango_  on the table alongside a pot of green tea. In the mean time, Sherlock had been busying himself with his _kiseru_ pipe. John was about to tuck in when he realised only one skewer sat between the two of them. He was about to mention it when his stomach grumbled loudly. Several other patrons turned to look at him.

 

“Ah sorry…”, embarrassment flooded his body. He had been receiving unwanted attention from strangers all day. Naturally he was exhausted and hungry.

 

Sherlock pushed the plate towards him, “Eat.”

 

John raised an eyebrow at him, “Where’s yours?”

 

“Not hungry.” And with that, he placed the pipe in his mouth and began puffing away. He then took a long drag and soon after, produced a large cloud of smoke. When he turned to look at John, he noticed the _dango_ had been devoured within seconds.

 

The blonde fluttered his eyelashes at him innocently. Sherlock sighed. “More?”

 

“Mmmokay.” He was still chewing as he spoke.

 

The dark man quirked an eyebrow at him. “Swallow.”

 

A dark shade of crimson erupted across the smaller man's cheeks. He blinked several times before realising the other man was staring at him expectedly. John gripped at the soft material of his _kimono_ under the table and forced himself to swallow. He may be accustomed to following orders as a servant, but as a _geisha_ it felt very different. More intimate.

 

Sherlock acknowledged John’s gulp with a _hm_ before taking a slow drag of his pipe. The blonde watched anxiously as the other man exhaled. “We’ll need to work on your manners then.” He concluded, waving over another plate of _dango_ as he spoke, only this time he held up two fingers instead of one. John somehow knew that both of them were for him.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the delay in posting new chapters lately, but I've been travelling for the past few weeks with little time to sit down and write. Anyway I'll be posting more than usual this week to compensate so I hope you enjoy :-)
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

_"HARRY!”_

  
  
-

  
  
“Ah!” Another nightmare. John’s heart raced as he instinctively gripped the bedsheets, trying to catch his breath. Screwing his eyes shut, he rubbed at the back of his neck, turning to throw an angry glare at his _takamakura_ pillow. Letting out a sigh, he threw the sheets off his still sweating body and stood up to stretch. Taking a moment to look around, he reflected in the way his new room differed to his previous one. Sherlock had insisted that he move from the servant’s quarters to be next door to the dark haired man, not that John had any say in the matter. Nevertheless, John couldn’t say he missed being holed up in the small dark space he had grown accustomed to for so long. His new room was large, bright and airy, with various potted plants dotted about alongside beautiful paintings hanging from the walls. He even had furniture and a futon bed. The only thing he disliked was the uncomfortable pillow, but it was yet another item on the list of things Sherlock said he would get used to. John took a moment to appreciate his new surroundings, but couldn’t help feel a little misplaced. He made his way for the _shōji_ that was adjacent to a private little garden John had never seen before. In fact, there were many parts of the House he and the other servants had been denied entry to. His thoughts continued to drift as he stepped outside onto the porch, enjoying the feel of the cool night air on his skin. Taking in a lungful of air through his nose, he let his eyes drift close.  


  
  
  
“Harry...”  


  
  
John almost jumped at the sound of Sherlock’s voice. He span around in an attempt to pinpoint the location of the other man, but it was too dark to see. That was until he both heard and saw him light a match, the dark haired man’s face framed in the brightness of the flame. Using it to smoke his _kiseru_ , he waved the match out before John had the chance to make his way over. “Wait...!”, but it was too late and he was plunged into darkness once more. He grumbled his annoyance as he felt his way over to the other man. Following the smell of the smoke that emanated from his pipe, John placed himself beside Sherlock and the two sat in contemplative silence.  


  
  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” John turned to look at the other man and was just about able to make out his face. That was when he realised the dark haired man was looking upwards towards the sky. He followed his line of sight to gaze at the stars with him; they were out in full force. He would’ve agreed and watched them with him were it not for the fact that there was a question niggling around in his head.  


  
  
“You heard me.” He began. He waited for a response, but when none came, John gulped and continued, “Just now. You heard my nightmare.”  


  
  
“I did.” The other man’s voice was neutral.  


  
  
John struggled to make out the expression on Sherlock’s face so he chose his words carefully. “I uh I’m sorry if I woke you...”  


  
  
The other man visibly turned to look at the smaller man causing him to squirm. He might not be able to see Sherlock’s eyes in the dark, but he could certainly feel them. “I was already awake.”

  
  
“Ah...” John was unsure what to do with himself at this point so he reverted back to what he knew. “Tea?”  


  
  
The proposition was met with a thick silence. The blonde was now grateful that the dark served to hide his blush of embarrassment. He was about to retract his suggestion and bid the other man good night when he responded. “Yes alright.”  


  
  
John sat for a moment longer, staring at the dark figure beside him before pushing himself up to head back inside.  


  
  
-  


  
  
John was in the middle of pouring a cup of tea when Sherlock slid the _shōji_ to his room open. The blonde turned to bow, but faltered when he recognised the other man’s old navy _yukata_. “That’s...”  


  
  
“It’s comfortable.” The dark haired man retorted. John snapped his mouth shut as Sherlock padded his way over to sit opposite the shorter man.  


  
  
“I could fix it for you.” John offered, indicating to the various rips and tears in the other man’s robe.  


  
  
Sherlock picked up his cup. “If you like. Mycroft’s silks are of no interest to me. I only wear what he says to avoid getting an earful. Dress to impress and whatnot.” He took a sip of the tea.  


  
  
John looked down at his knees. “I see...”, he felt awkward in his light blue _kimono_ ; their dress was the antithesis of one another. They subconsciously avoided each other’s eyes for a while longer before the dark haired man spoke again.  


  
  
“Your training starts tomorrow.” John looked up and was met with a stern look in Sherlock’s eyes. Fluttering his eyelashes nervously, he nodded his assent. The other man continued, “I expect you to be awake at dawn and presentable shortly after.” He set the cup down on the table and casually flopped backwards onto his bed.  


  
  
John shuffled on his knees. He wasn’t used to someone’s behaviour being so _unorthodox_. “I better go get some more sleep then.” He wasn’t met with a response so the blonde took that as permission to leave. Quietly clearing away the tea, he softly crept over to the adjoining _shōji_ , kneeling to slide it open. He spoke once more before closing the door behind him, “Good night, Sherlock.” He was met with a small _hm_ , which was good enough for John.  


  
  
-  


  
  
John didn’t hear the sound of his _shōji_ quietly slide open that morning. He was in a deep sleep, softly snoring away with a small patch of drool marking the side of his mouth. His _takamakura_ had been discarded on its side with the blonde’s body tangled in his bedsheets. Sherlock sighed as he lifted up the bucket of water. He didn’t hesitate to throw its contents onto the sleeping man below.  


  
  
He shot upwards with a blubbering shout of surprise. “Morning.” Sherlock chirped, eliciting a glare from a very disgruntled looking John. The taller man tossed the bucket aside causing it to create a loud bang as it connected with the floor. The previous look of amusement had been hastily replaced with that of disappointment, “It’s almost noon.”

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

A panicked look erupted across John’s features as he scrambled out of his now soaking wet bed to bow to the other man in an attempt to beg for forgiveness. Just as he was about to voice his apology, the darker haired man cut him off. “What did I say about insincere gestures, John?”  


  
  
The blonde faltered at the other man’s visible irritation. He shakily stood, but kept his eyes averted. “Should I go fetch you a cane?” John’s voice came out small and wobbly.  


  
  
Sherlock blinked then realisation hit him. “I do not need to punish you, John. You are already punishing yourself by letting Harry down.”  


  
  
The words cut through John like a razor blade. Balling his fists in both shock and fury, he let out a long breath of air through his nostrils. He knew Sherlock was right, but the anger brewing within him refused to subside. He felt a burning need to land a blow on the smug face of the taller man in front of him. He resigned to digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands instead. Sherlock observed the blonde’s reaction before speaking again.  


  
  
“Get dressed.” He near barked. And with that, he dropped to the floor to lie on his side, propping his head up with one hand. John blinked as Sherlock yawned. Upon noticing the shorter man hesitate, the taller man quirked an eyebrow, “Or perhaps you would enjoy a good beating?” His words sounded like that of a genuine question as opposed to a rhetorical threat. Regardless, John’s face immediately turned crimson as he span around to find a fresh set of clothes. Kneeling in front of an ornate chest of drawers, he pulled out a light green _kimono_ with gold cranes stitched into the silk. The blonde stood to remove his wet robe, but faltered when he remembered the other man was still in the room.  


  
  
He glanced over his shoulder, but looked away in embarrassment when he realised Sherlock had been watching him with keen interest. “Erm...”, John clutched at his damp clothes as he spoke, “Would you mind-”.  


  
  
“Giving you a hand?”  


  
  
The blonde turned to throw the other man an indignant look. “Pervert!” His cheeks were burning with embarrassment still, but his face descended into that of confusion when he realised Sherlock looked genuinely surprised. John decided to throw him a small _hmpfh_ , turning his nose upwards as he made his way over to the _byōbu_ screen to change.  


  
  
“Come here.” The smaller man froze. He could feel a shiver creep up his spine, which he told himself was because of his wet clothes and nothing to do with the other man in the room burning holes in the back of his head.  


  
  
John snapped his head round, “If it’s a whore you want then there are places for that elsewhere.” He couldn’t stop his anger from tinging his voice.  


  
  
Sherlock rose and despite John’s indomitable attitude, it was the first time he’d ever felt genuinely intimidated by his superior. The dark haired man made a bee line for the blonde, who took a step back in response. A flurry of thoughts exploded in John’s mind, attempting to best decide whether punching this man in the face would be worth the consequences that would inevitably be brought down upon him soon after. The man in question spoke before the smaller of the two could react to the diminishing amount of personal space left between them. “Not really my area, _John_.” The blonde gulped when Sherlock near spat the last word. The taller man continued, “If I am to train you then I need to know what I’m working with.” He casually waved a hand at John’s torso, to which the blonde squinted at him. Surprisingly, Sherlock looked more uncomfortable than him, particularly when he noticed a rosy pink blush begin to bloom on the taller man’s face. 

  
  
With a sigh of resignation, John shoved the green _kimono_ into the other man’s chest and began to undo his _obi_. Sherlock watched in silence as he clung to the blonde’s clean robe. The smaller man lowered the top half of his damp robe to reveal his toned torso. He clenched his teeth when the dark haired man leant his face closer to John’s muscular chest, humming his approval. They stayed like that for a little too long, Sherlock rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. The smaller man realised that the other man’s head was now level with his and considered head butting him out of his reverie when Sherlock suddenly snapped up. 

  
  
“Good, so far.” He concluded. _So far?_ John thought. Sherlock then indicated to the lower half of the blonde’s body, “What about the rest of you then?” 

  
  
And before John had time enough to process his thoughts, he had thrown a punch aimed for Sherlock’s face. However, to his dismay, the dark haired man caught his fist in his hand, using the other to twist John’s arm behind his back, forcing him to the floor with a yelp. The smaller man winced when he felt the other man’s face press beside that of his own. “Another time then.” He said softly into John’s ear. He then let go of the blonde who was now crumpled in a heap on the floor. Sherlock stood, straightened his _yukata_ and made for the door. “Outside. Ten minutes. Chop chop.” And with that, he slid out of the room and disappeared down the hallway.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

John lamented being made to walk in his _okobo_ shoes again. He shuffled awkwardly down the cobbled street with a _wasaga_ perched over his shoulder. As per usual, Sherlock was ten steps ahead, too impatient to slow his pace down to meet that of his apprentice. John would’ve requested to hold onto the other man’s arm like last time, but the events of that morning made it difficult for him to even look at the dark haired man. He resigned to continue on in his struggle instead.  


  
  
They had been walking for what felt like hours when John decided to be the one to finally break their stubborn silence. “Exactly where are we going?” He called out, puffing in exhaustion.  


  
  
“To visit an old friend of mine.” Sherlock called back in response without so much as turning to reply or stopping to address John properly. The smaller of the two sighed in exasperation as he did he level best not to fall over in the middle of the street.  


  
  
-  


  
  
“Sherlock, darling! What a wonderful surprise.” The woman strode towards Sherlock, her arms thrown open to give him a good squeeze for a greeting. When she pulled away to address him again, she kept her face close to that of his, her hands resting on his shoulders.

  
  


“So good to see you. How long has it been?”  


  
  
“Too long.” The warm smile on the taller man’s face looked genuine. John frowned when he caught sight of it, shuffling uncomfortably at the intimacy that was taking place in front of him. It was as if the woman had detected his awkwardness, her sharp eyes darting from Sherlock’s to focus on the smaller man instead. John blushed.  


  
  
“And who’s this pretty little blossom?” She stalked over to the blonde who was unsure of where to look. He felt as if he was prey being sized up by his predator.  


  
  
“This is my apprentice.”  


  
  
The woman spun around to throw a gleaming smile at her old friend, clasping her hands together in excitement. “An apprentice? How delightful!” She turned her head slightly to cast her eyes up and down John’s body. He did his level best not to squirm under her prying gaze. “So you’ll be in town for a while then?”  


  
  
“Yes.”  


  
  
“Marvellous!” The woman threw her hands upwards to accentuate her excitement. She spun around to head back into her House. “Come come, my darlings. We have much catching up to do.” She cast a wink over her shoulder at Sherlock as she made her way inside.  


  
  
The dark haired man was about to follow suit when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his _yukata_. He raised an eyebrow at a confused looking John, which he took as permission to speak. “Who is that?”  


  
  
“Irene Adler.” A hint of wonder tinged Sherlock’s voice as he spoke. “The most graceful _geisha_ I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” And with that, he headed inside with John scurrying after him.  


  
  
-  


  
  
Sherlock and Irene debated endlessly over the finer points of tea ceremonies for what felt like hours. John however was struggling to keep his eyes open. He drifted back to admiring one of the many gardens of Irene’s House. He was grateful that they had decided to leave the _shōji_ to the outside open; at least John had something nice to stare at in his boredom. But then something did catch his eye: a small group of beautiful _geisha_ made their way to the middle of the garden, quietly chatting and occasionally giggling amongst themselves. John admired their colourful _kimonos_ , noting that they were all holding matching _sensu_ fans. Lining up in a row, they began to dance. John was completely transfixed; he was in awe of their grace and beauty. So rapt he was, he hadn’t noticed the other two in the room had stopped talking a while ago to watch the blonde’s fascination in amusement. Sharing a smirk, Irene addressed the smaller man, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”  


  
  
John nearly forgot about the other two in the room. He broke his gaze with the spectacle in the garden to focus on his knees. “Ah yes...”, he nodded. Suddenly, he felt the tip of a _sensu_ gently push his chin upwards. Irene was angling his face to so as to inspect him. John tried to gulp as quietly as possible when he saw the sparkle in her eyes. He let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in when she removed her fan, throwing it open to flutter it. Sherlock smiled fondly at her as she did so.  


  
  
“Alright.” She snapped the fan close and stood abruptly. Both Sherlock and John followed suit, the smaller of the two stumbling a little from the sudden movement. “There is an _ozashiki_ happening tonight. My girls will be the entertainment.” She smirked at John, but continued to speak to the other man, “It would be an honour to have both you and your little blossom come to join us.” 

  
  
“It would be our pleasure.” The dark haired man bowed as the other man hesitantly mimicked his teacher soon after. Irene smiled deviously. 

  
  
\- 

  
  
John was grateful for not having to walk to the _ochaya_ in his _okobo_ that evening. He shifted awkwardly in the seat of the man pulled rickshaw, wishing he had more space so that his side wasn’t pressed so close to that of Sherlock. The other man paid him no mind though, seemingly in favour of watching the people go by. The blonde squirmed some more. Then he cleared his throat. Then he tried to catch Sherlock’s eye. He sighed in exasperation and resigned to addressing the other man directly instead. “What was that?” 

  
  
“Hm?” 

  
  
“I said what was that. Earlier. With Irene.” 

  
  
“What was what?” 

  
  
John was starting to lose his patience. “I mean why did she keep looking at me like that? And why did she keep looking at you like-“ 

  
  
Sherlock cut him off. “Irene is one of the best, if not the best. Just be grateful that she is allowing you to attend tonight as a _minarai_.” 

  
  
And with that, the rickshaw came to a halt. They had arrived at their destination.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

John tried not to gawp. He’d never seen so much beauty and wealth all in one place before. They were sat in a large room filled with many _geisha_ and rich men, all sat at their own little tables. Some were chatting, others laughing. Tea was being poured, pipes were being lit. It was a good fun environment. The blonde however felt a little out of place amongst the endless vibrancy of the room and its people. He turned to look at Sherlock only to realise he seemed mesmerised by whatever conversation he was having with Irene. Despite the fact that the three of them were all sat at the same table, John could barely hear them over the noise of the room. He sighed, feeling lost in all the abundant merriment. Then the _shōji_ behind him slid open and the room fell silent.

This time, John did gawp. A group of _samurai_ entered the room and everyone stared, but all eyes were fixed on the tall man stood in the middle of them all. John just about caught sight of him: well built, tall, blonde, stern. He blinked when he noticed the scarring up the side of the other man’s face. It was as if the stern-looking man could hear him staring, as he turned to lock his eyes with those of John. For a moment, they just looked at each other as John revelled in how curious the man before him was. Suddenly the group strode forwards, heading for a nearby empty table. They hardly paid the slightest bit of attention to the thick silence that enveloped the room.

 

As soon as they sat, one of them rose his hand and clicked his fingers.  “ _Saké!_ ”

The room erupted back to its previous jovial bustle as a timid-looking _geisha_ hurried over with a tray to bring them their _saké._ Other geisha began to make their way over, offering to pour the men their drinks, which they all accepted, apart from the tall blonde man. John quirked an eyebrow: he hadn’t taken his eyes off him since he entered the room. The apprentice nearly leapt when he felt a hand on his shoulder: it was Irene.

“Sholto.” She announced in his ear. Despite wanting to wriggle out of her grip, John also wanted to know more about the mysterious _samurai_. “Renowned and respected warrior,” she continued, “Shame all my _geisha_ are afraid of him.” She pulled away to fan herself with her _sensu_.

John turned to throw a confused look at her, “Afraid?”

“Yes,” she responded languidly, “It’s the scars. They don’t like them.” She glanced over at the man in question as she spoke. “They think he’s an _oni_.”

John scoffed at that last part, breaking eye contact only to realise Sherlock was staring intently at him, his fingers under his chin. It was starting to creep the smaller man out. “You should go talk to him.”

“Wh-what?” The blonde began. “I-I thought I was just hear to watch and learn? Not _join_ in!”

Irene interjected to support him, “Yes and Sholto rather does loathe _geisha_ too. A bit of a challenge to start with him, don’t you think?”

“No.” Came the taller man’s curt response. “It’s perfect.”

-

“C’mon, Sholto! You’re missing out on all the fun!” But the stern man waved away his friend’s reassurances in favour stepping outside into the cool night air. Taking in a generous lungful, he slowly released it as he revelled in his newfound solitude. Pulling out a cigar from his sleeve, he was about to light it when he was interrupted by a voice at his side.

“May I?”

Sholto blinked at Sherlock before seeing the box of matches in the other man’s hand. The taller of the two nodded. Wrapping his lips round his cigar, he leant towards the dark haired man after striking a match. The small flame illuminated their faces in the dark, their eyes carefully watching the now red glow emanating from the end of the cigar. Sholto pulled away to puff a little before settling his eyes back on the garden opposite the _ochaya_. Sherlock followed his line of sight only to realise the other man was staring at nothing. Lighting his _kiseru_ , he glanced back up at him then turned his attention to the _katana_ hanging off of his belt.

The _samurai_ knew he was being examined, but kept his tone of voice neutral. “Yes, I have fought in many wars, seen many things, committed many horrific acts,” he let out a puff of smoke, “I follow the way of the _bushido_ …” His words trailed off, refusing to meet the dark haired man’s probing gaze.

Sherlock paused for a moment in deep contemplation before responding heartily, “Marvellous!” He looked over his shoulder, “I told you he was a true _samurai_.”

The warrior turned also to follow the other man’s line of sight. Behind the two of them was John. He had been kneeling by the open _shōji_ inside the _ochaya_. When both him and Sholto caught each other’s eyes, they simultaneously blushed. A smirk spread across Sherlock’s lips.

“But I’m sure he doesn’t want to be pestered,” the dark haired man sighed, “C’mon, John. Let’s not disturb this gentleman any further.” He flashed a smile at Sholto. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He began to make his way back inside when the soldier intervened.

“Wait…!” There was an awkward silence. “Ah…John, is it?”

The smaller man’s cheeks were still a rosy shade of pink. He gave a small nod in response.

Sholto pointed at Sherlock, “and is this your _danna_?”

Then his cheeks burned red, “N-no! Of course not. Far from it.” He rushed, flashing a glance at the man in question. He briefly caught a glimpse of hurt in Sherlock’s eyes, but he decided his mind was playing tricks on him from the sudden pressure.

The _samurai_ nodded then turned to give Sherlock a look. There was a borderline threatening gleam in his eyes. The dark haired man raised his eyebrows, “I see…” He bowed and promptly headed back inside.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

A heavy pregnant pause had descended soon after Sherlock’s departure. The two blondes remained exactly where they were, avoiding each other’s eyes to squirm uncomfortably. Both of them were sporting an impressive shade of crimson on their cheeks.

 

John felt at a loss as to what he should do when suddenly a thought shot through his mind:

 

_Harry…_

 

He blinked, remembering his purpose. Straightening his posture, he forcibly looked at the other man as he addressed him. “Tell me?”

 

Sholto snapped his head round to meet the other mans eyes. “P-pardon?”

 

“Tell me about your battles. Your adventures. Your life.” Everything about him was suddenly dripping with confidence. He had strengthened his resolve. “I should like to hear it all.”

 

The  _samurai_  stared at him in disbelief.

 

A hint of doubt began to seep its way into John’s mind. _Maybe geisha aren’t supposed to talk like that?_ “P-please?” He winced.

 

Then the taller of the two suddenly snapped out of his reverie. “Uh yes of course.”

 

A loud roar erupted from inside the  _ochaya_  causing both of them to flinch. The patrons were beginning to get a little too rowdy for Sholto’s liking. He glanced back at the garden, extending an arm to John.

 

“Walk with me?” The smaller man smiled softly, nodding his assent.

 

-

 

The two had been walking through the many gardens for what felt like hours. The previous awkwardness of their initial meeting from just moments before had completely melted away and now they had found themselves strolling arm in arm at a comfortable pace, occasionally holding each others gaze. Sholto had been recounting many tales to John to his fascination, encouraging him to continue on and on. Occasionally the blonde would giggle when the taller of the two would tell him of his more amusing anecdotes. The only thing that remained from their first encounter was a shared blush.

 

Before departing from the noisy din of the _ochaya_ , John had quickly poked his head back inside to find some kind of light for their evening stroll. As he turned his head, he had to stop himself from leaping in fright at the sight of Sherlock leaning casually against the opposite side of the _washi_.

 

“Were you listening to us this whole time?!” He hissed, not wanting the _samurai_ to notice their exchange. Sherlock wordlessly handed him a _chōchin_ lantern, his eyes focused on the ground _._ John’s prior annoyance crumbled; instead feeling a sense of awkward gratitude. “Th-thank you…”, he blushed, grabbing the _chōchin_ and dashing back outside.   

-

 

“I should like to see you again.” The warrior sounded very sure of himself, but the rosy shade of pink on his cheeks suggested a hint of doubt at the other man's reaction. A look a relief appeared on his features upon seeing John's wide beaming smile.

 

“I would like that.” The smaller man’s eyes sparkled as he admired the taller man’s physique. They continued to share a silent gaze between themselves in the middle of the empty street when Sholto’s posture abruptly stiffened upon hearing his friends’ call.

 

“C’mon, Sholto! We’re taking this party elsewhere.” His friends all drunkenly giggled as a couple of them began to playfully and half-heartedly wrestle each other. The others were cheering them on with glee.

 

Sholto let out a tired sigh, rubbing the side of his face in exasperation. John giggled at this, causing the taller man to blush yet again. “I better go…”, he mumbled, reluctance dripping from every inch of him. “But I’ll see you soon?”

 

“Yes please.” And with that, he turned to shout at his boisterous friends who laughed in response as they began their dissent into the night. Sholto briefly turned to steal another look at John who sweetly smiled and waved at the other man as he disappeared down the street. The apprentice let out a small happy sigh, nearly jumping when he felt a firm hand clasp onto one of his shoulders.

 

“Very impressive.” Irene purred into his ear. John bit the bottom of his lip to prevent himself from twisting out of her grasp. Her next words were directed elsewhere. “Are you sure what you’re dealing with here is just an apprentice?”

 

John arched his neck to see who she was talking to, but he already knew who was stood close behind him. Sherlock however had been keeping him eyes focused on the distance, as if still staring after Sholto. “I know a good _geisha_ when I see one.” He broke his gaze to throw a charming smile at Irene to which she happily returned the same look. John squirmed at their intimate interactions. As soon as Irene had delicately slid her hand off of the blonde’s shoulder, Sherlock had placed a firm grip on the opposite. “Well we best be heading back then. My apprentice has a rather busy schedule ahead of them tomorrow.” He gave the man in question a quick squeeze, but John didn’t know what it meant. Before he could follow that thought any further, the dark haired man had removed his hand to turn to bow to Irene. “Thank you so much for having us.”

 

She flashed him a smile, turning to look at John who had also turned around to properly face to two of them. He blinked and then awkwardly snapped into a bow, “Ah yes thank you.” He mumbled, feeling exposed under her intense gaze.

 

“The pleasure was all mine.” She purred and just as she threw a quick wink at Sherlock, a man had pulled up a _rickshaw_ behind the two of them, ready to take them home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

On the ride back home, John suddenly realised how tired he was and had drifted to sleep. His head had unintentionally found itself leaning against Sherlock’s shoulder. He was only vaguely aware of this when the _rickshaw_ went over a sizeable bump in the road, causing them both to jolt somewhat. But the blonde was thick with exhaustion, barely able to blink himself awake. He felt rather cozy snuggled up to the body that was sat next to him, allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep when a gentle voice shushed him soothingly. He just about noticed that there was a hand placed over his as his eyes fluttered shut.

 

-

 

When John awoke, he was in his bed. He blinked rapidly in confusion as he attempted to recognise his room through the darkness. A patchwork of memories came pouring back to him as he recalled saying goodbye to Sholto, then to Irene, climbing into the _rickshaw_ home, falling asleep and leaning on Sherlock’s shoul-

 

_Oh god._

He didn’t remember arriving at the House, let alone making his way to his bed. John furrowed his brow in confusion, reaching his hands up to his chest to feel at the material of his clothes. He could feel that was no longer wearing his silk _kimono_ , but his cotton _yukata_. The colour then drained from his face upon realising that not only had he fallen asleep on Sherlock’s shoulder, the dark haired man had also carried him to his room and undressed him.

 

_What else did he do whilst I was aslee-_

 

Just then, a brief flicker of light danced across the wall. When it disappeared, it was accompanied by a soft exhale. John supposed that the other man was back on the porch again smoking his _kiseru_. Despite the darkness, the blonde turned to look in the direction of where Sherlock might be sat outside. He fumbled with edges of his blanket for a moment, biting his lip in contemplation. He considered bringing the other man some tea, but hastily changed his mind in favour of curling up to go back to sleep. He told himself that those final moments of last night never happened.

 

-

 

“I can’t do this!” John whined without hesitation, frustration tinging his features. It was early in the morning and the blonde felt groggy. Sherlock however looked perfectly at ease, lounging on his side on the floor opposite. He took a sip of the tea John had brewed moments before as he held up his head with his other hand. The smaller of the two blinked at him, expecting a response, but sighed when he realised his protests were being ignored. He glanced back down at the large _koto_ that had been laid out before him. “Sherlock, I…I’ve never even played an instrument before!”

 

But the other man was still ignoring his complaints, filling up his _kiseru_ with tobacco. The smaller of the two fiddled with the three plectrum in his hands, staring uselessly at the sheet music his teacher had placed in front of him. John didn’t even know how to read music let alone play. He considered plucking at least one of the many strings when Sherlock rose and made his way over. The blonde gulped at the sudden movement and lack of communication. He was unable to read the blank expression on the other man’s face, let alone manage to catch his eye. He blinked in confusion when the dark haired man walked right past him in favour of standing behind his apprentice. A moment passed before John began to squirm awkwardly.

 

“What…?” And then Sherlock sat with his legs on either side of John. The blonde nearly leapt from the unexpected physical contact, attempting to shrink his body away from that of Sherlock’s. “…are you doing?!” The smaller man almost squeaked. He froze when he felt the other man’s hands take those of his own, pushing them forwards and onto the awaiting _koto_. John could feel the other man’s back pressed up tight against his, his chin hovering over the blonde’s shoulder. They were almost cheek to cheek.

 

“Relax.” Sherlock softly mumbled, holding his _kiseru_ in place between his teeth. Blowing out a puff of smoke from the opposite corner of his lips, he began to manipulate John’s fingers. The blonde grit his teeth then screwed his eyes shut. Then he bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes. He was completely unused to anything like this, his arms were as stiff as stone. His teacher let out an exasperated sigh, his hold on the blonde’s hands tightening uncomfortably.

 

“Ah…”, the smaller man breathed, his quivering hands being slowly crushed by Sherlock’s long nimble fingers. He was about to yank them out of the other man’s grasp when the dark haired man stood with a _hmfph_ and headed over to the pot of tea back where he was originally sat. John let out a sigh of relief, allowing his eyes to momentarily close. When he opened them again, a small cup was being offered to him, right under his nose. He nearly jumped from yet another breach of his personal space.

 

“Drink.” Sherlock commanded. The blonde blinked in confusion at him, glancing nervously back at the cup of tea. The dark haired man let out a frustrated sigh. “Anytime, John.” That snapped the smaller man out of his confusion.

 

“Uh yes um sorry.” He delicately took the cup from his teacher’s hands, their fingers brushing slightly. John bowed his head a little and took a sip.

 

“All of it.” Sherlock’s voice sounded somewhat dark, if not threatening.

 

The smaller man nearly flinched from the look in the other man’s eyes, but swiftly obeyed orders without so much as a thought.

 

He instantly regretted it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

Something was wrong. John didn’t feel quite right. The room began to spin slightly and his vision was a little blurred. He frowned at the now empty cup, throwing the same look at Sherlock, but the minor movement of turning his head nearly sent him tumbling backwards. His teacher was there to catch him before he crumpled into a messy heap on the floor. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He spoke softly into John’s ear.

 

The smaller man let out a small whimper as the dark haired man gently lifted him back up again. “Sh-Sherlock, what did you…”

 

“Muscle relaxant.” The other stated factually, repositioning them both into the way they were sat together before. “You were far too stiff earlier. This’ll make things much easier.” And with that, he placed his legs on either side of his subdued student, taking his now limp hands and manipulated them over the strings of the _koto_.

 

John wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. Thrash away and cry angry sounds of protest. But when their hands met the strings of the ornate instrument before them, he was spellbound. Together, they created the most beautifully melancholic tune John had ever heard. He watched his own hands as his teacher made them dance effortlessly across the strings. He was completely transfixed. They shared a long moment together of simply creating an endless stream of gracefully sombre tunes. And their song continued on and on and on an-

 

“Keep your hand here.” Sherlock near growled into John’s ear. The blonde tried to nod; keeping his hand in place on top of the _koto_ ’s many ivory bridges. The other man’s hand was still smoothly operating John’s plectrum covered fingers, the soothing thrum of music continuing on. It came to a scratching halt when the blonde felt Sherlock’s spare hand snake its way to his inner thigh.

 

John tried to protest, but his words came out as an incoherent garble. He feebly attempted to twist out of Sherlock’s grasp, but was firmly held in place under his unforgiving hold. Still the blonde wriggled and writhed against the other man’s body, letting out a gasp as he felt his _obi_ come undone. “St-stop…” His voice was barely audible, struggling to focus his sight on anything in the room. And then he was suddenly falling slowly backwards, hands guiding him so that his head was resting against Sherlock’s thigh. The smaller man glanced feebly upwards at his assailant only to be met with a warm fond-looking smile.

 

“It’s better this way, John.” He sounded so very sincere; the apprentice was keen to believe him. “You wouldn’t let me examine you before.” His voice was low and gentle, and John felt soothed by it. His fears however were renewed when the dark haired man moved his gaze away from John’s own to make tracks down his body, stopping at his crotch.

 

"Don't." The blonde just about managed to gasp, his voice sounding a lot more fragile than he intended. But Sherlock continued to ignore his protests in favour of stripping the sedated man right where he lay, vulnerably sprawled across the floor. John wanted to punch him square in the jaw, but the effects of the sedative made his body heavy and limp. He could only watch in horror as the dark haired man pulled away at his  _kimono_. 

 

Time appeared to slow down at that point, with every light brush of Sherlock's cold fingers against John's flush skin seemingly lasting too long. The blonde screwed his eyes shut, denying everything that was happening to him. A sudden spark of fear shot through him,  _What is he going to do when I've been completely stripped?_ A trembling whimper escaped from his lips at the thought.

 

His teacher gently shushed him, but kept his eyes focused on the lower half of the blonde's body. Then he reached for John's undergarments and the shivering man shivered harder when he felt Sherlock's hands yank them off. Now he was totally bare.

 

John tensed, bracing himself for whatever might happen next. A thick bead of sweat rolled off of his forehead and down the side of his temple. He just about managed to grit his teeth and keep his eyes firmly shut. He waited. And waited. And waited. And...

 

Nothing happened. The blonde was confused. He could hardly even hear the sound of the other man breathing. Hesitantly, he opened an eye, expecting the worst. But he was met with the image of the other man staring inquisitively at John's limp member, as if it were a puzzle he was trying to solve. He had kept his hands to himself, his palms turned downwards and firmly planted a top of his thighs. John blinked in confusion. _Is he just going to...stare?_

 

"If only you had an erection..." Sherlock mumbled to himself, but John heard him loud and clear.

 

"P-pervert!" Sherlock snapped his head round to meet John's eyes. The blonde would've leapt from the piercing stare he had received, were it not for the drug that was still coursing through his veins.

 

"How many times must I say it?" The dark haired man huffed. "I need to examine you to know what I'm working with." He flitted his eyes back down to John's crotch. "Perhaps a different type of drug next time." He was still talking to himself. John felt like he wasn't even in the room. Then Sherlock's attention was suddenly back on him, a genuinely friendly smile spread across his face. "Ginger?"

 

The blonde didn't know how to respond. He fluttered his eyelids before darting out his tongue to wet his lips.  _This man is insane_.

 

"Ginger, John." He reiterated, his tone firmer than before. "Do you like it?"

 

_Only if I get to ram it up your arse, you sick pervert_. But John chose to shrug instead. It looked like more of a twitch, given his inability to properly move his own limbs.

 

"Marvellous!" The dark haired man beamed and with that, he carefully pulled the smaller man's undergarments back on, lifting either sides of John's  _kimono_  to wrap around him, thus restoring him back to his previous decent state. "You'll need to sleep the rest of the drug off." He almost sounded like a doctor advising a sick patient. "We can leave the  _koto_  for another day." 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

John blinked.  _That's it...?_  He was about to let out a nervous chuckle of relief when he was swiftly scooped up in the other man's arms, picking him up with ease. He frantically tried to squirm. "Put me down!" He near shouted, despite his lethargic bones.

 

His teacher threw him a confused look. "You'd rather be left immobilised on the floor?" It sounded like a genuine question as opposed to a snide remark. The blonde bit his lip in frustration and numbly shook his head. "Yes, that would be rather unwise, I should think." Sherlock crossed over to his room, kneeling softly by his bed and carefully placed the limp man down as gently as he could. 

 

Despite finding some comfort in the closeness of the other man, John glanced over at his bed in the room beside his teacher's. Sherlock answered his question before he had time to voice it. "I've requested that your room be cleaned." He slid the connecting _shōji_ closed as he spoke, spinning round to flash a toothy grin at the smaller man. "Some new  _kimono_  too." 

 

There was a moment of silence as they held each other's gaze. In that moment, John began to admire the way in which the other man's distinct features quite nicely framed his eyes and those lips. These thoughts were being mixed together in Sherlock's scent that heavily lingered on his bed sheets. John tried to grip the sheets, blaming his overloaded senses on the delirious feeling caused by the drug. He blinked heavily in discomfort. One minute, Sherlock was at the other end of the room, the next he was right beside him, delicately stroking the blonde's damp hair.

 

"I'm sorry, John." He near whispered, thumbing the sweat off of the smaller man's brow. "Just try to get some rest. I'll be right here."

 

The gentle hum of his words soothed the apprentice, his eyes now hooded. "Sherlock..." And then he was asleep.

 

-

 

_"Don't touch her! Let her go! Harry!"_

 

-

 

His head was throbbing when he awoke and everything was still fuzzy. There was whispering outside the room in the garden. Two people were hurriedly exchanging urgent words. The smell of tobacco reached his nostrils.  _Sherlock_? John tried to focus on the shadows on the other side of the  _washi_ , but his head still felt heavy. His eyelids fluttered and his head flopped back into the pillow, the heaviness of sleep rushing through him once more.

 

-

 

_"Get off of me! No! Harry! HARRY!"_

 

-

 

John gasped as he threw his eyes open, his body trembling in his own sweat. He just about registered the cold flannel on his forehead. Sherlock was knelt beside him, a sympathetic smile on his face. His voice was hushed as he spoke. "Sorry if I woke you. I thought perhaps the flannel might help to counter the side effects of the drug I gave yo-" and then John punched him square in the jaw.

 

A nasty crack emanated from the blow, whether it came from the dark haired man's face or the blonde's fist, neither of them knew, as John had thrown himself out from under the bed sheets to leap at the other man in a fit of rage. 

 

Sherlock only just ducked away from the second punch when the smaller man's roared, "Where is she?!" He continued to aim his dazed fury at other man, who in turn dodged every hit aimed at him, occasionally deflecting the onslaught of fists, elbows and knees that came his way. 

 

Then suddenly, they were outside in the garden. John stopped briefly to catch his breath. Feeling dishevelled and exhausted, he combed a hand through his sweat slick hair, flexing his now sore knuckle and wincing as he did so. He glanced up at the other man who stood a few metres away, absentmindedly rubbing his chin. "Nice shot, but what are your skills with a sword?" John frowned at him, noticing the two  _shinai_  that laid at his feet. He darted his tongue out to wet his lips as a tense moment passed, the two of them holding each other eyes in an attempt to second guess the other man's next move.

 

Then John leapt forwards, tumbling into a roll and uncurling at the two bamboo swords laid at his opponent's feet. He was about to grab the two of them when Sherlock flicked one upwards with the ends of his toes, firmly clasping it in his hands to bring it down in a swift swoop. The blonde had just about enough time to react, throwing his  _shinai_  upwards over his head, Sherlock's own connecting with the horizontal bamboo beneath him. For a moment, they struggled for dominance, each sword trembling under opposing forces. John's grimace then turned upwards into a smirk as he shot out a leg from where he was crouched, spinning it out in front of him in the hopes of catching the dark haired man off guard. To his dismay, Sherlock had seen the movement before John had enough time to fully execute the move, jumping backwards out of his reach.

 

The two puffed from the sudden exertion. "Not bad", the taller man returned the other man's smirk, "I do prefer you splayed naked for me though."

 

John's eyes widened at the remark before his expression descended into rage once more. He knew he was being goaded, but he rose to it anyway. "Bastard!" And with that, he charged forwards.

 

What followed was a series of fast paced clacks and cracks of clashing  _shinai_ , with feet dancing hurriedly, but effortlessly, in an attempt to outwit the other. However, both managed to keep up with the other, failing to land a single blow on their opponent. Then they came to a grinding halt as their swords connected perpendicular between them both, their faces coming forwards so their noses almost touched. Sherlock's smug look remained with John's frustration still burning. "Self-taught?"

 

The blonde threw his weight forwards into the other man, causing their swords to deflect each other. They both leapt away to create some distance between them, briefly pausing to catch their breath. "I don't just sit on the roof in my spare time, you know." John tried to catch his breath whilst sounding as nonchalant as he could. "A servant needs a hobby to pass the time."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

A noisy  _pfft_  escaped from Sherlock at the remark, leaning his  _shinai_  on his shoulder. "Of course and it has absolutely nothing to do with revenge." The smaller man tightened his grip on his sword at those words. His teacher noticed. "I could teach you." He offered, his voice much gentler this time, as if he were coaxing a wild animal. "Hone your skills."

 

This time, it was John's turn to make a rude noise at Sherlock. "And a  _geisha_  would need to know the art of the sword because...?" Then suddenly the dark haired man was in front of him in a flash. The blonde lifted his  _shinai_  just in time to prevent his opponent's weapon from connecting with his neck. Sherlock used their proximity to whisper into his apprentice's ear.

 

"You are no  _geisha_ , John Watson." Their swords disconnected as the dark haired man attempted to jab the smaller man in the gut. Again, the attack was deflected, their swords locked once more. "You are more than that." And again, their swords broke off only to lock again. "You are more than all of this and you know it."

 

The vague nature of the other man's words began to get on John's nerves. Letting out a shout of anger, he threw out a leg intended to connected with Sherlock's side. But he had acted out in rage, miscalculating his stance as the other man easily caught his leg. Pulling him forwards with twist, John fell with a yelp, throwing out his hands in a vain attempt to soften his fall as his head connected with the ground. He groaned, reaching out to grab his  _shinai_  before it was kicked away from him. Sherlock lowered his own sword over the back of John's neck in a sign of triumph. The blonde threw him an exasperated sigh whilst batting the opposing  _shinai_  away to scramble back to his feet, patting the dirt and dust off of his now ruined garments. He froze upon hearing the other man's next words.

 

"He's coming, you know." Time seemed to stand still at that very moment. "The one you seek." Sherlock clarified, but John knew exactly who he was referring to. "The man who took-"

 

"Harry...", John finished for him, but he was largely speaking to himself. Straightening his posture, he fixed a serious look on the man stood opposite him. "What exactly am I up against?"

 

The other man paused before responding, taking time to examine the smaller man's face. Finally he gave his response. "Human trafficker. Well connected. Very dangerous." He began to close the gap between them. "He ventures to the city every now and then for business." He stopped immediately in front of John, peering down at him from his nose. "And for pleasure also."

 

The blonde gulped. "You want me to seduce him, don't you?"

 

Sherlock blinked. "I want you to distract him." He clarified before a brief pensive look crossed his features. "Although I suppose seduction can be rather distracting." 

 

John blushed as he balled his fists. "And what's in it for you?"

 

The dark haired man smiled warmly. "I was wondering when you might ask that." Lightly tapping the _shinai_  against his shoulder, he continued with an air of disinterest. "And nothing is the answer to your question. I had rather hoped to avoid my brother's pleas for help, but I ended up relenting eventually." He sighed. "All this trafficking malarkey is bad for business. Mycroft has been sharing with me his concerns that his supposedly loyal clients are seeking their pleasures elsewhere. For cheap." He twirled his  _shinai_  casually. "Of course I personally couldn't care less, but I had nothing else going on at the time so there you have it."

 

John pondered for a moment, as if gathering all the information that had just been hurled at him. "So what happens when I've got him distracted?"

 

A serious look descended upon the other man's face at that moment. The blonde thought he could spot a hint of worry and possibly doubt. "We've yet to figure that part out." He mumbled weakly.

 

John glanced at his own  _shinai_ , which laid discarded in the dirt a few metres away. "And if I can't seduce him...?"

 

His words were met with a sharp look the blonde wasn't quite able to decipher. "Any attempt to bring harm upon this person would most definitely end very badly for you." There was a pregnant pause. Finally Sherlock continued, "I think it wise that you learn how to defend yourself, but I advise against initiating anything, if you can help it." What was left of the space between them was made even smaller. John wanted to back away, but stubbornly stood his ground. "Is that understood?"

 

"Yes, Sir." John shook himself, annoyed that he had unintentionally slipped back into his old servant habits. "Uh I mean yes, Sherlock."

 

A hand was placed gingerly on his shoulder. The blonde looked up to meet the other man's attempt at a comforting smile. "And then we find your sister."

 

John nodded. He gulped at the same time.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, folks: I've added dark!Sherlock as an additional tag to this fic as things are going to start to become tad sinister. Expect more non-con, drugging, unhealthy relationships and possibly even darker themes to come ~~because I like to make John suffer.~~ You have been warned!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

It was always in the small hours of the morning that John would be stirred from his slumber by the faint smell of tobacco. The two men had fallen into a regular routine of sitting on the porch together at night to admire the stars. And of course, the blonde would always provide them with their tea. Despite the regular interruptions of John’s sleep patterns, he much preferred this to his repeated night terrors. Although he still dreamt of his sister, they were becoming less frequent these days. His constant fears were being soothed away by Sherlock’s stern yet nurturing attitude. John had been able to find some kind of solace in their partnership and it suited him just fine.

 

Most nights, the smaller man would be gently roused by the smell that emanated from his teacher’s _kiseru_. Although his initial grogginess would cloud his mind, his lips would slowly curve upwards into a soft smile. He enjoyed his routine of rolling out of his bed to brew them a pot to enjoy on the porch together. He reckoned the other man rather appreciated their peaceful companionship also.

 

One night however was slightly different to the others.

 

John was having a nightmare and this time it was double the intensity of his previous dreams. He thrashed and writhed in his bed, the sheets tangled just below his waist. Every inch of him was covered in a thin line of sweat as he mumbled and groaned. A cascade of images flooded his mind in a fast-paced flurry. His sister was stood in front of him, as she always was, but this time it was as if her entire being was being ripped away and dispersed into the ether. John tried to scream, but couldn’t. Instead he felt as if he was suffocating as panic started to brew away within him. Then he was falling and falling and falling – it never seemed to end. A series of unintelligible shouts and cries drowned his ears and surrounded his entire being. He felt consumed, frozen and terrified. The rush of wind grew louder and louder, as if he were falling faster with every second that passed. Any minute now he’d hit the ground, but just before he did he heard a faint whisper. “John…”, but it wasn’t Harry, it was-

 

Suddenly, everything went red.

 

“Sherlock!”

 

John was upright in his bed, his heart thrumming in his chest. He panted as his panic slowly began to subside. Then he noticed a shadow framed in moonlight and the familiar smell of tobacco. He turned his head to meet the figure stood in the doorway of the open _shōji_ to the garden: it was Sherlock. A pure sensation of relief poured through the blonde’s body with a small part of him wanting to touch the other man so as to reassure himself that he was definitely there, safe and sound, and in one piece. He just about registered the inquisitive look on the taller man’s face as he pushed himself off of the door frame to cross to his room next door via the porch.

 

“I’ll make the tea tonight.”

 

-

 

The sun was scorching and John hated it. They had been sparring for hours that morning and he was exhausted. He had removed the top half of his robe so that his chest was exposed in an attempt to keep his body cool, but there was no breeze and the sweat on his skin glistened in the sunlight. With one hand on his knee and the other clutching onto his _shinai_ , he straightened his posture to peer upwards at the sky. There were no clouds to be seen – it was a pure hot summer’s day.

 

“Christ”, he puffed, rolling a shoulder back with a click. Unbeknown to him, his opponent had been staring at him the whole time. An unreadable expression sat on his face, his eyes burning with more intensity than usual. When the blonde glanced back down to face the taller man, Sherlock quickly turned to head back inside.

 

“I think that’s enough sparring for one day.” He haphazardly tossed his _shinai_ into his room. “Get yourself freshened up. I’ll be outside. Ten minutes.” And with that, he disappeared.

 

-

 

John happily munched away at his hearty bowl of ramen, taking pleasure in the large quantities of food he had been supplied with ever since he began his training. It certainly made a nice change from the scraps the servants were forced to divide amongst themsevles back at the House. A pang of concern flashed inside him however – his associate was doing his usual of smoking-instead-of-eating routine. John wanted to pressure him into eating at least something, but he knew his words would be met with some kind of arrogant snipe so he resigned himself to slurping down his noodles.

 

The other man in question was sat facing the opposite direction onto the street, puffing away on his _kiseru_. He had been watching the many passers-by with great interest. The city was out in full force, everyone wanting to make the most of the warm weather. But Sherlock’s thoughts appeared to be elsewhere – he wasn’t interested in the weather or the people or whatever else. He was focused on one thing in particular.

 

And now John was really starting to worry. He had taken note of the dark haired man’s withdrawn demeanour and had been observing him for about a minute. He followed Sherlock’s line of sight out into the moving crowd, but could see nothing of any interest. He frowned, feeling the need to poke his companion back to reality. He decided his voice would hopefully do the trick instead. “What is it, Sherlock?”

 

That was when a hooded figure came hurtling towards them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

“Oof!” There was a loud crash as John’s ramen bowl was knocked from the table, hitting the floor and smashing into tiny pieces. The hooded figure had collided with full force into the two of them, nearly knocking them both off their stools.

 

“Oi! Watch where you’re bloody going!” Roared the rotund man behind the bar, but the figure continued to fumble wordlessly. Had it not been for the shock, John would’ve grabbed the intruder, but by the time he had registered the situation, Sherlock had thrown the figure off of him who then haphazardly turned to sprint away into the crowd.

 

The two of them panted from the sudden exertion. In all of the commotion, John’s _kimono_ had been tousled, exposing a shoulder in the process. Sherlock was equally as dishevelled with his thick curls sticking out wildly. The dark haired man then began to pat himself down to which John frowned. The blonde opened his mouth with the intention of asking if his companion was ok when the man in question calmly announced, “I believe I have just been robbed.”

 

Before he could say anything more, his apprentice had run off after the thief.

 

-

 

It didn’t take long before the culprit was back in John’s sights. The figure was violently pushing themselves through the crowd, eliciting surprised shouts and angry protests from the many innocent bystanders. Fortunately for John, this meant he was neither slowed down by the hordes of people in the street, nor did he have to try and carve a path for himself through them all, unlike his assailant.

 

He was just about to grab onto the sleeve of the attacker’s _yukata_ , when the figure unexpectedly spun around to swing a leg at their pursuer. However, thanks to the blonde’s training, his body responded before his brain did and he ducked to avoid receiving a blow to the head. Pushing himself upwards from his crouched position, he shot forwards with the goal of landing a fist into the thief’s stomach. It would seem however that his opponent was an equal match, as they blocked and deflected the jab, shoving John to the side. The figure cut through the crowd once more to disappear down an empty side street. The blonde huffed in frustration and quickly followed suit.

 

It was unlike John to play the hero or chase after villains; in fact it was very much outside of his character. He was more accustomed to hiding himself away, preferring to avoid trouble rather than be at its core. However this was different. This person had done his partner wrong. _His partner._ His mind raced as he ran. _Sherlock._

 

Before he could finish his thought process, he picked up on a sudden whistling sound that was fast approaching. His assailant had thrown several _shuriken_ behind them, which were now rapidly making their way towards John. Despite a valiant attempt to swerve out of their way, one of the blades managed to slice open the top of one of his arms. He hissed, wincing in pain as he clutched at the wound. Regardless, he did not break speed nor stumble from the impact. The figure ahead took a brief moment to peek over their shoulder – John just about caught the look of panic in their eyes. They sharply turned around a corner only to be knocked backwards with a sudden clang. The blonde stopped dead in his tracks, blinking at the now semi-conscious body lying in the dirt. Out from around the street corner came Sherlock. John couldn’t prevent the wide grin from spreading across his features. He puffed his response, “Nice shot.”

 

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his teacher’s lips as he twirled the bamboo stick in his palm. Approaching the thief on the floor, he pressed the end of the stick to their throat. “I believe you have something of mine.”

 

Their culprit let out a loud sigh as they reached into their _yukata_ to retrieve the stolen bag of coins. Sherlock was about to lean forwards to retrieve what was his when John stepped forward. “Wait! He’s armed.” The dark haired man stopped to observe his apprentice, making a point of staring at the wound he was clutching. John huffed at the unnecessary expression of worry that tinged Sherlock’s features. “I’m fine.” The blonde mumbled, as he approached the assailant. “Keep your hands up where we can see them.” The figure nodded, but avoided John’s eyes. The blonde approached with caution, crouching beside the culprit to roughly pull apart their robe and hastily grab the purse. At this proximity, John was able to catch a glimpse of the thief. He just about saw the face underneath the hood and he could’ve sworn he’d seen this man before…

 

Before he could follow that thought any further, he heard a familiar voice call from behind them. “Sherlock!” It was Lestrade. A small number of armed men were following him in tow – John presumed they were hired _samurai_. “Sherlock.” The silver haired man repeated again, stopping to rest his hands on his knees as he panted. The _samurai_ shot past him to manhandle the mysterious man off of the floor. “We received your message.” Finally catching his breath, he straightened to fix eyes with the man in question. “Are you alright?”

 

John noted the lack of genuine concern in Lestrade’s tone. “Yes, perfectly fine.” Came the taller man’s curt response. “Although John here is injured.” He turned to cast a momentarily worried glance in his direction. The blonde shuffled awkwardly from the attention.

 

“I told you, I’m fine.” But his words went unheard. Sherlock snapped his head round to face Lestrade.

 

“See to it that a carriage be brought here immediately.” The blonde sighed in frustration.

 

“You can take one of our rickshaw, if you want. We took two to get here.” Lestrade threw a thumb behind him in the direction of the two carriages at the end of the side street. A crowd had gathered to watch all the commotion.

 

Sherlock let out a loud _tsk_ before turning to his companion. “We should go before more imbeciles turn up.” He began making his way down the narrow street with the expectation that the blonde would obediently follow, but John remained exactly where he was.

 

“No.” Lestrade and Sherlock both threw him a confused look. “I’ve seen that man before.” The blonde indicated behind him. “I’m sure I recognise that fac-”, but as he turned to refer to the man in question, both him and Lestrade’s backup had disappeared. John frowned in confusion, his eyes darting to every corner of the street. He took a few steps forward to peek around the corners of the buildings that split the path in two, but still the men were nowhere to be seen.

 

 A firm hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. “John,” Sherlock’s voice was steady and sure, “Let’s go home.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

The ride home was an awkward one. Sherlock had repeatedly insisted on inspecting John’s wound despite his constant protests. Eventually he gave up on trying to bat the other man away and resigned to allowing himself to be prodded. Worrying his bottom lip in annoyance, John looked away into the passing crowd before he felt a sharp pain to which he snapped his head back round. “Ow! What the hell are yo-“

 

“Poison.” Sherlock announced.

 

The colour drained from the blonde man’s face. “Wh-what? I’ve been poisoned?!”

 

“Hm? Oh, no of course not.” Sherlock murmured as he squeezed at the cut. “I’m checking, just in case.”

 

John felt a sudden need to shove the other man out of the rickshaw. Instead he decided to take in a deep breath to slowly release through his nose. Clutching at his _kimono_ , he twisted his arm out of Sherlock’s grasp. “Well now that you’ve proven to be an insufferable git, you can stop poking me for the rest of the journey home.”

 

His words seemed to have stung his companion as he briefly caught a glimpse of hurt that flashed across Sherlock’s face. However, as was always the case with his teacher, the expression was gone before he could fully register it. “Very well.” The dark haired man turned to face forwards; both his tone and facial expression were kept painfully neutral. For some reason unbeknown to him, this only served to irritate John further.

 

They spent the rest of the ride home in silence.

 

-

 

“John. John, wake up, we’re here.”

 

The blonde cracked his dry eyes open, blinking in confusion. Vaguely noticing the line of drool hanging off of his chin, he tried to remember the exact moment he had fallen asleep.

 

“Don’t worry,” Sherlock’s voice continued. John tried to pinpoint the exact location of the voice when he felt the rickshaw bounce somewhat. His teacher had jumped out of the carriage to spin around to John’s side of the vehicle with lightning speed. Offering his arms forward, he smiled softly, “I’ve got you.”

 

Had John had his wits about him, he would’ve been purposefully stubborn and pushed past him; however in his delirious state he couldn’t find the strength to act defiant. Instead, he sluggishly nodded in response, slipping out of his seat to collapse into the other man’s arms. The driver of the rickshaw turned to throw them an irritated look, which Sherlock met with venomous scowl. “That’ll be all. You may leave now.” His tone was dripping with a promise of unspoken threats and violence. The driver flinched at this, nodding quickly before speeding away down the cobbled street. The dark haired man was pulled back to his situation upon hearing a low groan emanate from the limp blonde in his arms.

 

“Sher-Sherlock,” he grumbled against the other man’s chest, struggling to grip onto the sleeves of his _yukata_. “What happened?”

 

“Shh it’s okay, I’ll look after you.” The dark haired man cooed into the smaller man’s ear, gently stroking his golden hair. Soothed by his partner’s softness, John slipped back into the dark abyss once more.

 

-

 

This time, John woke with a start. He gasped as he shot upwards from the bed, a couple of beads of sweat appearing on his brow. Registering a dull ache in his arm, he glanced down to notice that his wound had been neatly wrapped in a bandage. Then the smell of ginger hit his nostrils.

 

“Ah, finally you’re awake.” Sherlock was crouched near the end of the bed, midway through brewing a pot of tea. “I’ve decided that keeping my distance whilst you’re asleep is wise. Wouldn’t want to fracture those knuckles on my jaw again now, would we?”

 

John wanted to retort with a snide remark of some sort, but his head span in an uneasy grogginess. Letting out a pained moan, he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. Then another smell hit him, which was when he realised he was in Sherlock’s bed. Again.

 

The mixture of scents, the warmth that enveloped his being and his fuzzy head did strange things to his body, not to mention the sweet smile that was spreading across the other man’s full lips alongside a twinkle in his eyes. John thought for a moment he saw something predatory in them, but shook the unnerving feeling off in favour of asking for something to quench his thirst. A cup of tea was immediately shoved right beneath his nose, the smell of ginger near burning his nostrils. The blonde was about to accept it when he hesitated. He tried to still the shake in his hands as he cast a nervous glance to his teacher who was bent forwards on his hands and knees, a little too close for comfort. John swallowed the dry lump that was uncomfortably lodged in his throat. “H-how do I know it’s not drugged?” He tried to keep his tone light, inwardly cursing himself for the nervous stammer. A stab of icy horror pierced his gut when he watched Sherlock’s previously jovial expression morph into something devious and calculating.

 

“Perhaps,” Sherlock purred, “the drugs are in your system already.” His teacher’s icy blue eyes darted to the wound on the blonde’s arm, which John followed, blinking at the bandages in confusion. Furrowing his brow, he nervously darted out his tongue to wet his lips. A hot prickling sensation slowly began to creep up his spine – he could sense he was missing something very important, but was unable to pinpoint the reason for the growing dread that had begun to seep into his bones. Flicking his gaze back to Sherlock, he forcibly had to prevent himself from flinching at the sight: the man in question was now a mere inch away from his face and staring with such intensity, John felt as if his skin would burn from the scrutiny. That was when the apprentice realised that the look in his eyes wasn’t one of curiosity, but something else he was struggling to decipher. Suddenly, realisation came crashing down upon him:

 

Those eyes were alight with pure unabashed lust.

 

And with that, Sherlock downed the tea in one swift swoop, tossed the cup aside and shot forwards to smash their lips together in a fervent kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning for excessive non-consensual drugging**
> 
> Also I'm going to be a dingus and only upload the one chapter this week. Life is crazy busy right now so it'll be another week until I post again. Oh the suspense...!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_

John was falling again, only this time there was no sound. He felt as though his body was stuck in an unnervingly silent freefall, descending deeper and deeper into a dark abyss. And he felt hot. Too hot. He watched in horror as his robes began to burn away into tiny embers above him until there was nothing left. His skin was next and he thought he could feel a lick of flame curl at the small of his back. He tried to shout, but no sound passed his lips. Then his naked tormented body abruptly made contact with the ground or what he assumed was the bottom of the dark pit. But as he tried to lift his weary bones, something held him down. That was when he realised he had landed on a sea of hands, all hungrily attempting to grab onto his limbs. John tried to yank himself away, but it was no use. He was being held down in a vast array of harsh grips. Then the hands began to explore, stroking him all over, from light caresses through his sweat slick hair to more intimate parts of him. He felt himself being probed and fondled, causing his cock to begin to swell and engorge, resulting in a small groan to slip from his lips. His eyes flew open upon hearing a familiar voice.

 

“Oh John…”

 

For a brief moment that barely even lasted a second, all John saw was Sherlock; those unashamed eyes of desire burning right through him. But before the blonde had time enough to react, he was thrown back into the mass of grabbing hands, which now became more feverish in their explorations. John hissed and clenched his teeth as their hold on him grew painfully tight with other hands beginning to claw at him with deep scratches. The golden strands on his head were suddenly yanked back in a sharply uncomfortable grip, leaving his neck exposed and vulnerable. The hands between his thighs grew more desperate with fingers thrusting harder and faster, as his member was pumped mercilessly without hesitation. John balled his own hands into fists as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite the insurmountable terror that coursed through his veins, he couldn’t deny the crest of an orgasm rapidly descending upon him. Arching his back as much as he could, he let out a rumbling moan as the blissful sensation of his climax washed over him. Then everything went white.

 

-

 

John woke from his nightmare with a jolt, his forehead damp with sweat. Blinking several times, he slowly began to register the dull ache throbbing away in his head. Groaning ruefully, he rolled over onto his stomach to press his face into the plump pillow underneath him. Forgetting whose bed he was in, he took in a generous gulp of air as he buried his nose into the soft material, unintentionally breathing in the now overpowering smell of Sherlock. The scent a shiver down his spine and a twitch to his dick. John frowned into the pillow, pulling up his hands to grasp at it in a death grip. He had begun to chew at his bottom lip in confused contemplation at his body’s reaction when he heard a faint, but distinct whispering coming from the porch. Then the smell of tobacco hit him.

 

 _Sherlock._ John’s body responded before he realised what he was doing. Clambering towards the door on his hands and knees, he was vaguely aware of the drugs that continued to course through his veins. He wobbled as his vision blurred, feebly reaching out towards the _shōji_ directly in front of him. But before he could throw the door open, his head began to violently spin. Letting out a small groan, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell forwards in a heap of exhausted limbs.

 

Despite his dazed state, John’s ears caught the sound of the _shōji_ being slid open followed by two figures hurriedly making their way towards them. Firm hands pulled him upwards as he gurgled in protest from the involuntary movement. The blonde was so limp, he was totally unable to support the weight of his own head. Before it fell forwards to awkwardly hang from his neck, a familiar touch gently guided him to lean against a shoulder. As he did so, he recognised the smell of his teacher, resulting in an instinctive moan to escape from his lips. Said hand was now softly stroking his damp hair; he could just about make out a few distant shushing noises as well. Everything felt soft and warm, and John’s mind began to float in a happy haze. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a sharp voice:

 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, brother of mine?”

 

The blonde felt those reassuring protective arms that were wrapped around him squeeze a little tighter in response to those words. Further exchange ensued, only this time it was hushed and hissed. John’s head began doing summersaults again; tentatively he managed to clasp onto one of Sherlock’s sleeves, wanting to grab the other’s man attention, but before he could do so, he passed out.

 

-

 

This time when John woke, his mouth and eyes felt painfully dry. A persistent throb presented itself in the front of his skull and his limbs were plagued with a dull ache. Furrowing his brow, he blinked several times as he attempted to recall what happened the last time he was conscious. He remembered Sherlock’s smell, his hands, a tight embrace. Then the sensation of lips against his own and overwhelming measures of ecstasy tinged his memories. He recalled hands, lots of hands. And unspeakable things being done to intimate parts of him. John reflexively poked out his tongue in an attempt to wet his lips, but it was in vain. Shoving the cloud of muddled thoughts aside, he set about finding himself some water. He was about to get up when he caught the distant sound of a floorboard creak.

 

John froze.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a slightly longer chapter than usual to make up for the lack of updates last week. Enjoy!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_  
>  Katana scabbard = _saya_

John’s breathing stilled as he strained his hearing, listening out for any other sound to confirm his suspicion that he was not alone. The thick silence and blinding darkness of the night enveloped his senses as he bit his bottom lip in concentration. For the briefest of moments, he began to think he was imagining things until he caught the unmistakable whisper of a sword being drawn from its _saya_. Without hesitation, the blonde rapidly rolled out of the bed, narrowly avoiding the blade of a _katana_ coming down to pierce the soft material of the still warm pillow. John panted from the sudden exertion, darting his eyes about in panic, trying his level best to adjust his sight to the darkness, but before he was given the chance to do so, he caught the distinct sound of the pitter patter of feet coming for him fast. Blindly, he leapt in what he hoped would be away from his attacker. This was followed by several swishes of a blade cutting through the night. The apprentice wanted to rid himself of the terror that coursed through him, frustrated by the lack of vision. Suddenly he felt something sharp press against his upper thigh, which was quickly followed by a nasty stinging sensation and the hot expulsion of blood. The shock of being cut caused the blonde to stumble backwards, tearing through the _washi_ of the _shōji_ into the garden. Scrambling away on his hands and feet, John pushed himself as far away as he could from the room, ignoring the scratches of the wooden porch against the palms of his hands. Breathing erratically, he pushed himself up onto his feet as he stumbled out into the centre of the garden, the adrenaline forcing him to forget about his injuries. Uneasily he watched the room from afar, waiting in suspense for his attacker to emerge. Out here, he had the light of the moon to illuminate his surroundings in a dull grey blue hue.

 

John almost flinched when a figure emerged from the room, slowly stepping out onto the porch. They were covered head to toe except for their eyes, which were fixed on the trembling man in the centre of the garden. The blonde held their gaze before lowering it to gasp at the sight of his own blood dripping from the end of the sword. And with that, his attacker whipped their _katana_ , shaking the blood off of their weapon to leave a splatter directly in front of them. This time John did flinch, clenching his fists in response when his opponent lifted their sword to point directly at him.

 

There was a tense moment of silence where neither of them moved, blinked or breathed.

 

Then his attacker shot forwards with unbelievable speed, their sword drawn behind them with the intention of swooping forwards in a lethal blow. John swore as he rolled away from the assault. Again he was pursued in near darkness by fast paced swooshes of a deadly sharp blade. The blonde dodged and dived away from their attacks, but was unable to land a single blow. He mentally kicked himself for not having some kind of weapon on his persons when he caught sight of both his and Sherlock’s _shinai_ propped up against a nearby wall. It would have to do. Heading for the only weapon he could find, he slid up to them, grabbing them so as to swivel and jab his opponent in the gut. They gasped and coughed loudly as they stumbled back, clutching at their chest. John couldn’t help the fleeting feeling of victory bounce around inside him for having successfully winded his attacker. But his fear was almost immediately renewed upon hearing what sounded like a growl emanate from the figure in front of him. And then they were locked in battle once more with the blonde still having to duck away from the onslaught of swipes and strikes; he knew their blade was sharp enough to cut through the bamboo of his _shinai_. He was still at a disadvantage. A chill shot through his spine as he shivered from the thought that these moments could be his last.

 

But John’s fear and doubt were both suddenly erased when the memory of Sherlock’s face came into focus in his mind. He thought of the way the taller man would look at him with such adoration and pride, the way in which he would purposefully, but discreetly brush his fingers against those of his own, the way he cared for and nurtured him with such patience. And then that look of lust in those silvery blue orbs – they felt like both a wonderful dream and a twisted nightmare.

 

The blonde just about dodged the swing of the blade, nearly cutting off the tip of his nose. Snapping himself out of his reverie, his strengthened his resolve. Darting forwards, he jabbed his opponent in their upper thighs, hitting their pressure points dead on, causing them to collapse backwards from the momentary loss of sensation in their legs. John took the opportunity to violently stamp on their knee, crushing the vulnerable knee cap as a result. Their attacker let out a loud pained howl as he felt the fragile bones underneath his foot snap with an audible crack. He was about to strike a deadly hit in their throat with the intention of at least fracturing their spine when he heard shouting in the distance. Suddenly, several of the surrounding _shōji_ were thrown open as light was cast in all directions from multiple hand held _chōchin._ John lifted his hand to block out some of the invasive light that was now burning his eyes. Then he caught sight of a figure running towards him and he recognised the bounce of curls bobbing up and down. It was Sherlock.

 

“John!” He shouted at him from afar, his voice quieter, but panicked when he arrived by his side. “Are you alright?” The blonde was about to reassure him when his teacher cut in. “You’re hurt.” He eyed John’s wounded leg with such scrutiny that the apprentice almost felt ashamed for having failed to avoid the injury in the first place.

 

But his thoughts were tossed aside when a group of _samurai_ hurriedly picked his attacker from off of the floor to drag them away. “Wait!” Pushing past Sherlock, he made for the group.

 

“John.” His teacher’s voice was tinted with a hint of menace, but the blonde ignored it, surging forwards without hesitation.

 

“Hey, I said wait!” And with that, John reached out to tear away the cloth that hid his opponent’s face to reveal yet another person he swore he had met before. She threw him a blisteringly angry look of pure hatred, spitting a globule of blood at him in spite. The blonde just stared in shock and confusion. Furrowing his brow, he pondered. _Where have I seen you before?_

 

“Insolence!” Sherlock barked, causing John to almost jump upon realising his teacher was right by his side. The dark haired man then shot forwards to land a harsh backhand slap across the mystery woman’s face, leaving an angry, but silent scowl on her face. John gawped; he’d never seen Sherlock hit someone before. “Dispose of her.” He commanded the now terrified looking _samurai_. “ _Immediately_.” His voice was icy and threatening, causing the group in front of him to leap to attention and quickly drag the woman away.  

 

John decided to forget the events of that night.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_  
>  Katana scabbard = _saya_

“You want to give your prized apprentice to me?” Irene was leant casually back, her black and red _kimono_ splayed across the floor as she languidly fanned herself with her _sensu_.

 

“Consider it more of a loan.” Sherlock smiled at her, but it came across as strained. Irene raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

 

“And I suppose there’s a reason why you want your little blossom to perform at my _okiya_ instead of your brother’s?” She peered at the dark haired man suspiciously.

 

Sherlock chuckled. “Irene,” he spoke softly, gently taking one of her hands in his own. “I owe you so much for helping my apprentice here perfect their skills and training. The least I can do is give you this.”

 

Whilst he was busy gazing into her eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster, John was kneeling beside the two of them, squirming uncomfortably from their intimacy.

 

The two in discussion held each other’s eyes for a moment before the taller man spoke once more. “You may keep the money also.” Both the woman’s and the blonde’s heads snapped up at his words.

 

-

 

“Sherlock. Sherlock!” John was doing his best to run after him, hobbling down the street in his _okobo_. Eventually he caught up with him, tugging violently on the sleeve of his _yukata_. “What the hell are you doing?!”

 

The dark haired man blinked when he turned to look over his shoulder at the red faced blonde although this time it was a look of rage, not embarrassment. He spoke plainly, “I’m making a deal.”

 

“But why?!” John almost wailed. “Can’t I just do my performance at Mother’s _okiya_? Why does it have to be Irene’s?” Then his voiced lowered somewhat. “Why can’t it be with you?”

 

A moment passed where the taller of the two stared at the other man in disbelief. He turned to gently place both hands on either side of John’s arms, pressing reassuringly. “I’ll be there.” He near whispered, “I’ve got you.” The blonde looked up at that point, his eyes swirling with relief. A small smile peaked at the corners of Sherlock’s lips, but then he straightened his posture and gave the other man a firm pat on the shoulder. “Besides Irene’s place gets far more footfall than my brother’s. We’ll be more likely to find our guy there.”

 

-

 

_“Harry…”_

 

-

 

“And one, two, three, four. One, two, three, four and stop! And one, two, three, four…”

 

The blonde was starting to grow weary of the drone of Sherlock’s voice. They had been practising his routine for hours, his wrists growing sore from the constant twists of his _sensu_ fans. He let out a small sigh, thinking back to the many occasions he would watch Irene’s _geisha_ practise their own routines. _How do they making dancing look so easy?_ Clearly his thoughts had distracted him as the other man was now marching over.

 

“No no no no! It’s like this.” Then without hesitation, he stood behind the smaller man, pressing his body against his and took his wrists in his hands. “Ok now one, two, three, four…” John sighed again, allowing his limbs to be as limber as possible. He felt like a human-sized puppet, but at this point he had grown used to the constant physical contact from his teacher. He didn’t even flinch anymore when the other man would touch him without warning. In fact, he had begun to find some comfort in his touch. His mind began to wander as he enjoyed the relaxing sensation of being manhandled; his worries seeping away from him for a brief moment. Ever so slightly, he leant his head backwards so that it was close to resting against Sherlock’s chest. “Good. Much better.” The other man murmured into his ear, “Whatever it is you’re thinking about, keep thinking about it.”

 

They continued to dance that way for hours more.

 

-

 

_“HARRY!”_

 

-

 

“Where’s Sherlock?” Panic tinged John’s voice, but his question was ignored by the whirlwind of _geisha_ that swooped around him, in and out of the room. They had all been tasked with the sole purpose of getting him ready for his performance, but the blonde’s mind was drifting elsewhere. A timid looking woman knelt in front of him to readjust the collar of his kimono, avoiding his eyes as she did so. Having failed to get her attention, he grabbed onto her sleeve. “Where is he?” He inquired with urgency, but the _geisha_ did her level best to ignore his questions, lifting herself up to busy herself with the rest of the preparations. John let out an exasperated sigh, trying to remain as calm as possible. He had never done anything like this before in his entire life and all he wanted right now was the reassurances of his teacher.

 

Screwing his eyes shut, he balled his fists as the many women around him continued to swirl in a fast-paced flurry, their onslaught of never-ending poking and prodding raging on. John could feel something deep within him bubbling inside, growing more and more out of control. Any moment now he was about to burst when suddenly a sharp twang of a _shamisen_ brought the whirlwind in the room to a halt. John spun his head around, much like everyone else. There stood in the doorway was Sherlock, casually leaning against the door frame with the string instrument cradled in his arms. He snapped his fingers at them all, causing everyone to shuffle as quickly as they could out of the room, their heads bowed as they passed the tall man in the doorway. Everyone disappeared except for John who remained perfectly still where he was knelt in front of the dressing mirror.

 

Their shared gaze was only broken when Sherlock closed the door behind him as he stepped into the room. John took this as an opportunity to look at himself in the mirror. Despite the pull he felt towards his teacher, he felt equally as determined not to let it show. _Remember Harry_ , he kept reminding himself. His thoughts however were disrupted when Sherlock knelt beside him. If the smaller man turned his head now, their noses would be touching. He resolved to stay perfectly still, as if the other man wasn’t even there.

 

He couldn’t however stop himself from expressing his general annoyance. “I was beginning to think you’d sold me to Irene and left me here for good.” His lips formed a tight line as his body tensed. He could feel the other man’s eyes watching him with such burning intensity; it would’ve made him squirm.

 

But frankly, a part of him was relieved to have the other man close to him again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry that this update has come so late! I'm afraid the dreaded responsibilities of life have been keeping me ridiculously busy as of late so unfortunately future updates might be a tad more sporadic and possibly less frequent. But fear not! I am determined to keep this story going and your feedback is super encouraging and motivating and all the good things :-) 
> 
> Also I doodled some art for this fic which you can find [here](https://juanagalan.tumblr.com/post/162711405947/im-afraid-i-dont-have-any-updates-on-my-johnlock)!
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoy this chapter. On with the show...!
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Robe = _yukata_  
>  Geisha robe = _kimono_  
>  Belt = _obi_  
>  Socks = _tabi_  
>  Two-pronged sandals = _geta_  
>  Geisha sandals = _okobo_  
>  Straw hat = _kasa_  
>  Sliding doors = _shōji_  
>  Paper walls = _washi_  
>  Floor (also used for basic beds) = _tatami_  
>  Roof tiles = _kawara_  
>  Fan = _sensu_  
>  Parasol = _wagasa_  
>  Japanese skewered sweets = _dango_  
>  Pipe = _kiseru_  
>  Three string instrument played by geisha = _shamisen_  
>  Thirteen/Seventeen string instrument played by geisha = _koto_  
>  Geisha pillow = _takamakura_  
>  Folding screen = _byōbu_  
>  Feast = _ozashiki_  
>  Tea house = _ochaya_  
>  An apprentice who learns from watching = _minarai_  
>  Demon = _oni_  
>  Geisha house = _okiya_  
>  Paper lantern = _chōchin_  
>  Bamboo practise sword = _shinai_  
>  Katana scabbard = _saya_  
>  Maiko debut/auction = _mizuage_

“Sh-Sherlock,” John sounded weak and feeble, “I-I don’t think I can do this.” Then his fears resurfaced and began to bubble away yet again. This time he did turn to face his teacher, but struggled to meet his eyes. He kept his gaze focused on the ground.

 

His words were met with a sigh. Then soft hands were gently cupping both sides of his jaw to slowly tilt his face upwards so their eyes met once more. Sherlock had never touched John like this before. The blonde felt a rush of emotions flood his very being: shock, awe, wonder. His eyes sparkled when he caught the warm comforting look he received from the other man. Sherlock smiled softly, “If anyone can do this, it’s you, John Watson.”

 

The dark haired man fondly traced one of his thumbs over the blonde’s cheek in a sweet caress. That pull John was experiencing was growing stronger and stronger; he wanted to be as close to the other man as physically possible, but he remained put. Both of them appeared to be lost in each other, enjoying a new level of intimacy they had never explored together before. The smaller of the two nervously darted out his tongue to wet his lips whilst subconsciously flicking his eyes downwards to admire the beautifully angular curves of Sherlock’s mouth. When he realigned with gaze with the other man’s eyes, he just about caught him glancing down at John’s own mouth also. An unspoken realisation was close to descending upon the room when the door was thrown open with a loud bang causing them both to jump away from each other. Whatever spell they were under had been abruptly broken.

 

It was Irene. She smirked coyly as she whipped out her _sensu_. “It’s show time, boys.”

 

-

 

John’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared into the crowd, but all he could see were the contorted shadows of the many attendees to his debut. The blonde subconsciously fiddled with his sleeve in nervous anticipation – if only the lights weren’t so bright on the stage then maybe he could actually see properly.

 

The sharp twang of a _shamisen_ intruded John’s mind, snapping him out of his fear riddled thoughts. Glancing away from the crowd, he caught sight of Sherlock just off the side of the stage. He was surrounded by several beautifully decorated _shamisen_ and _koto_ of varying shapes, colours and sizes. The blonde desperately wanted to catch his eye before his performance was about to begin, but his teacher was seemingly focused on producing the introductory melody to John’s dance. The performer in question clenched his fists, took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Willing away the flush spreading across his cheeks and the sweat on his brow, an almost inaudible whisper cut its way through the growing anxiety in his head:

 

_“Harry.”_

 

And with that, John’s focus renewed. Throwing his eyelids open, he cast his arms outwards, whipping out the ornate _sensu_ fans clasped delicately in each hand. His audience gasped from the sudden movement, jerking backwards from the loud ripple of rice paper as the blonde snapped the two fans open. Then he began to twirl, slowly at first, descending rapidly into a hurricane of a spin, eliciting an _ooh_ from the wide eyed men in the room. John however didn’t notice – his own eyes were glazed over as broken memories of his sister shot through his mind, accompanied by shouts and screams of fear and protest. Despite this, his body continued to dance, flowing through the well-practised moves from muscle memory alone. All of John’s senses appeared to be dead as his mind succumbed to its onslaught of pain and terror from his many reimagining’s of his sister's kidnapping. The only thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the sweet melancholic tunes of Sherlock’s _koto_ , but even that was distant in the blonde’s distressed head. The more he thought about his sister, the more ferocity and speed he subconsciously introduced into his dance. His audience was captivated by the unconventional display, many were sat on the edge of their seats, jaws hanging open to occasionally utter another _ooh_ followed by an _ahh_.

 

Then John saw _him_. He saw him in his fog filled mind. A dark figure surrounded by thick mist that just _stood_ there, almost mockingly. The blonde couldn’t make out any discerning features until something flashed at him. Something wicked and twisted. He could make out the sharp edges of teeth, curled upwards in a terrifying cheshire grin. He could _see_ him. He was here right in front of him. He was here.

 

_He is here!_

 

Then the fog turned black as if swallowing everything within its sights as an impossibly loud roar erupted in his head. John’s eyes snapped open as his mind was brought crashing back down to reality, supplemented by the screech of Sherlock’s _koto_. The apprentice blinked several times as he realised his performance had come to an end.

 

A thick silence enveloped the room as the blonde struggled to recall his surroundings. He still couldn’t see into the crowd, his sight impaired by the impossibly bright lights that held him captive in the spotlight. But despite the lack of vision and the panicked haze in his brain, one thing was for certain:

 

_He. Is. Here._

 

Before he had time enough to react to his conclusion, the audience erupted into a sudden array of applause, cheering and whooping. The apprentice visibility flinched from the auditory intrusion, wincing from the unprecedented approval.

 

John was vaguely aware a few moments later that Irene had now joined him on stage in an attempt to both thank and settle the awe struck crowd. But for the blonde, everything blended together into a sensory overload of a blur. One thing he was acutely aware of however was when his teacher rose abruptly from his chair, eyes fixed on something in the audience. He wanted to call out his name or at the very least, follow his line of sight into the crowd. Who was he looking at? What had he seen? But the blonde was already being dragged off stage by the same group of beautifully dressed _geisha_ that helped he prepare moments before his performance. Despite the small shouts of protest urging to fall from his lips, he allowed himself to be carried away, surrendering to the exhaustion that soon swept over his body.

 

Now that his _mizuage_ was officially underway, the auction was about to begin.


End file.
